


Two Shadows Went

by PitchGold



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A/B/O, Allura and Lance are Siblings, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Altean Hunk (Voltron), Altean Lance (Voltron), Altean Pidge | Katie Holt, Alternate Universe, Dark Shiro (Voltron), F/M, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Prince Lance (Voltron), kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 108,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchGold/pseuds/PitchGold
Summary: Lance knows his place. He knows his duty. And above all else he loves his family. So when he is arranged to marry the Black Paladin, he can't say he was the happiest, he's barely even spoken to the guy, but he goes through with it, because his family needs it. Altea needs it.But he can swear, there's just something off with Shiro. There's something Lance swears he can see flash in those eyes, and it's gold tinged.——-This is an A/B/O Voltron fan fic that’s a bit like a fairy tale, but more like Game of Thrones in the worst of ways. Basically everyone is Altean or presumed to be. Lance and Allura are royal siblings and mah boi Shiro is just a smidgen darker. He’s a lot like the canon Shiro, just without all those silly morals in the way.





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: not subtle ABO at all. But less of an unbalanced version. Dark Shiro. Clever Lance. Scheming Allura. Spooky Keith. Kind (Why be a human when you can be a Flower) Hunk. Vindictive Pidge. Sex. I mean it takes a while but once ya get to the sex there is a lot of it! Also people die. Not quickly either. 
> 
> Okay so also, I wanna make clear that this does not follow cannon entirely, especially since the first 60k words were written before S2 and some of the things I have lined out have been proven false already.
> 
> Happy reading! ..please don't think less of me when this is all over...

Lance knew his place. He was the second prince of Altea. The Son of Alfor. The younger brother to the fierce Crown Princess Allura. He knew where he fit in. The titles that sat on his shoulders may not all be something he'd been comfortable with. But he bore them all the same, because despite all the responsibility that came with Lance's family, he loved them. 

 

There was only one position he cherished, the Blue Paladin. Blue was his. And he would never give her up. He adored letting himself slide into her essence, feeling her purring warmth envelop him, lapse at him like waves of the seas. 

 

The day he was chosen by Blue was possibly the best day of Lance’s entire life. He couldn't stop smiling every time he thought of how she had turned to him, how only he had been able to cross her force field. The moment his hand had found her smooth surface had been a burst of awareness in his mind. He'd been told how the Lions were basically gods whose feet happened to touch the ground. But he can't say he ever believed it till he felt Blue thumbing though him, filling him with love and comfort and support. 

 

Blue was all Lance had ever wanted past that point. 

 

But if becoming a Paladin was the best day of his life--now, sitting here across from his sister, in the grand council room, was possibly the worst.

 

"No." Lance blurted. 

 

Allure shifted in her seat. "Lance," she said as warmly as his sister had ever tried to manage. "It's not that simple." 

 

Lances brow creased. But it was. 

 

His expression must have prompted a response because his sister was sitting up straighter, her face smoothing and mouth posed in a way she knew made her look cold. Lance always wondered if his sister really was cold under that Queenly cloak she pulled around her at times like this, or if she was just much better at doing her duties than Lance was. 

 

"Lance." Her voice had more resounding tone to it now. She was dipping into an Alpha command. But she never would go there, at least not with Lance."We need this." 

 

"I'm the Blue Paladin." Lance argued. "The royal family has always had a paladin you said, and I'm right here, I am one." 

 

"Yes but--" Allure pressed her lips into a hard line. "We both know Shiro's choosing was unexpected." 

 

That was the understatement of the century. When Alfor had released his Bayard back to Black officially passing on the mantle, Allura had stepped forward--

 

Lance could still feel the uncomfortable silence that had filled the courtyard when Black had stepped over Allure and bowed at the feet of a nameless, bloodless captain. Allura's face had looked so shocked, so broken, so in disbelief. Lance wasn't sure he'd ever seen his sister that taken by surprise in his whole life. 

 

The only one in the crowd that hadn't been shocked was the captain himself. With a regal nature so natural, the Captain of the guard stepped forward, crossing the barrier with ease and accepted the Bayard of the Black Paladin. 

 

That one moment had changed everything. 

 

"The Ruler of Altea has always been a Paladin." Allura spoke. It was what she didn’t say that creased her brow with determination. 

 

Lance didn't look up from his hands on the table. 

 

They both knew Lance had no interest in ruling. He never had. He enjoyed being the younger prince. It meant he was still allowed to fuck up ever now and again. He was allowed to be goofy and impossibly talkative and take crazy adventures and be besties with the low-born Yellow Paladin. He wouldn't be king after all. He didn't need to act Regal, he just needed to be around. 

 

Allura would be Queen. It was her birth right, she wanted it and Lance was more than elated to let her have it. 

 

"And the future is looking very bleak, Lance." She was wearing that Queenly mask still. "We have to think about the next heir. My rule will be accepted now. But I have to have backing from the Paladins." She meant Black. 

 

Shiro it turned out had been less nameless then they had thought. He was the youngest captain ever in the Altean forces. The men below him were fiercely loyal. The men above him respected him. He was an astounding fighter pilot and a rousing leader. He embodied every aspect of Black. And he was a chess piece the future crown needed on her side. 

 

"If war with the Galra comes," Allure paused. "We have to be ready. And we have to make sure the future doesn't hold any surprises." 

 

They needed a Black Paladin heir. One of the bloodline. 

 

"But why me?" Lance asked. 

 

Allura reached across the table, for the first time her regal manor falling away as she reached for him, placing her hand over his and squeezing. "Lance, baby brother, you know why." 

 

It would be unladylike to say it out loud, but they both knew. 

 

Lance was an Omega. He could life bond with another Alpha. Allura was an Alpha. And so was Shiro, and two Alpha's couldn't life bond. Even if Allura was the one to go through with it. Everyone would know it was a marriage just for show. There would be nothing real holding them together. And Allura couldn't have that. 

 

Lance always knew a side of his sister was ruthless. Beyond ruthless, she was completely merciless. There was a reason they all hadn't questioned her status as the next Black Paladin. Her ambition was matched only by her determination. 

 

And she wanted to rule. 

 

Lance stared back down at this hands. His sisters soft fingers still lay across his own. 

 

He knew how the game of rulers worked. To stay in power, they needed to hold the most pieces of power. And the Black Paladin was a big piece. It was essential in holding military control, popular sway and even reinforced the ideas of Divine choosing. 

 

They needed the Black Paladin locked down on their side. 

 

Lance pulled his hand out from under his sisters. 

 

It stung a bit too much at that moment to know he was being used as another chess piece. 

 

"But I've barely even spoken to him." Lance tried to argue. 

 

Allura brushed it off. “Oh, but Lance he will make such a good suitor!" 

 

Lance couldn't find it in him to care. 

 

"Shiro is so accomplished! And he's only my age. Did you know he was admitted to the academy at fourteen? That's amazing. He graduated top of his class. He was one of the most well marked pilots ever seen and by the night Black chose him he had command of his own ship. Lance, really neither me or father could have ever dreamed to find you a better match." 

 

Still not looking up, Lance wasn't sure what to say. There was another reason, hidden in all those accomplishments. 

 

"You don't care about those things," Lance whispered mostly to himself. 

 

"Lance!" Allura balked as if she was actually offended. 

 

"It's that arm," Lance when on. "The only real accomplishment you care about is his right arm." 

 

That stilled the room. 

 

Finally Allure did speak up. "He knows first hand how much of a threat the Galra are to us." 

 

Lance gave a sigh. "And we need that on our side."

 

He was sure Allura was staring at him, her eyes baring into him. “Yes, we do, baby brother." 

 

Pressing his lips together, Lance tried another tactic. "There's no way we will ever get along." 

 

"Of course you will." Allura assured. "Historically a union between The Black and Blue Paladin has shown overwhelmingly that your personalities will mesh." 

 

Would they? Lance highly doubted that the goofy, fuck up Paladin and the painstakingly serious one would have any reason to speak, let alone become—bonded. 

 

Lance still didn't look up. "I don't want to." 

 

It was Allura's turn to sigh. "I know. But I stand by what I said. I don't know if we could have ever found a better suitor than this, Lance." 

 

Lance wasn't sure he believed her. 

 

That's why as he smoothed his hand over his face, he used his long fingers to cover his eyes, giving him an excuse not to look at his sister before he nodded. 

 

"Alright." He said quietly. 

 

"Excellent!" His sister exclaimed. 

 

Lance could hear the sound of her clapping her hands together. He didn't even pretend to listen as she launched into all the preparations they would need to get started on right away. 

 

* * *

 

This was the worst day of Lance's entire life. 

 

He was in the most uncomfortable outfit he'd ever had the misfortune of wearing, the stiff regency suit was cut so close, so form fitting, Lance felt as if he could hardly move. He was in head to tow white, even wearing white soft leather boots and crisp white gloves. His coat was embroidered with gold. He wore a golden vest buttoned under it. He was at least thankful for the soft white shirt against his skin under neath it all, but the only splash of color, the striking blue ascot was too tight at his throat. 

 

And he'd just been escorted through the doors, and was now standing before a few hundred people of his father’s court, staring up the freshly cleaned carpet to the enclave of the throne. Except there was no throne now. 

 

Shiro stood there, on the raised dais. He looked massive, with broad shoulders filling out his own black suit. His was much different. It was form fitting material, resembled that more reminiscent of a pilots suit than the stanch material of Lance’s. It was the cape though that struck Lance, making him stop there in the threshold. It was a thick material, and had been draped over one of Shiro's shoulders. It glimmered ever so subtly, like the stars. It was so long it swept around and down the stairs of the dais. 

 

Lance suddenly saw possibly what Allura had seen and feared all along. 

 

Standing there in the enclave, was a man Lance was more then positive could be powerful. He had the support, he now had the power, and without some measure of control on him, he would only need to reach out and snatch the crown from where it hovered over Allura's head. 

 

If nothing else, that jolted Lance into a step forward, 

 

He couldn't let that happen. He whole heartedly supported his sisters rule. Altea would need his sister. And if Lance needed to be the thing standing between his beloved family and the Black Paladin, he'd do it. 

 

The walk was long. Lance could see all the faces of every person he'd possibly ever known staring at him as he tried to calmly walk up the carpet. Moon flower petals had been tossed before his feet as he walked. Their lavender blue delicateness were softly crushed under Lance’s feet. 

 

At the front of the room, to his right, the Paladins were lined up. Hunk was closest to him. Lance stepped up to him first and Hunk gently placed a delicate moon flower wreath over Lance's head, tucking it back from his ears. He tried to smile reassuringly at Lance. Lance for once in his life was too nervous to smile back. 

 

When Lance returned to the white carpet he turned to his left. There his family stood. Foremost was his sister Allura, standing behind her was Lances father, the weak but still imposing form of King Alfor. 

 

Allura stepped to Lance without hesitation. She kissed at his cheek and pet his hair away from his face 

 

Lance stared at her, wondering if she was regretting pushing him into this, if she ever would. 

 

But then she was pushing a beautifully black jeweled circlet into Lances hands. 

 

Right, the offering. 

 

That meant it was time--

 

Lance looked up the stairs of the dais to Shiro. He was smiling down at Lance. He looked at him with soft eyes, before revealing one hand from the cloak, the flesh and bone hand thankfully, and gently beckoned Lance forward. 

 

He went to take a step before a hand touched Lance’s arm. He turned to find his father. His father was twice Lance’s size. A true Alpha Prime. They were nothing alike in any way. But as his father looked down at him, Lance couldn’t help but try his very best to give his father a reassuring smile. 

 

In return, Alfor pulled Lance into a tight but brief hug. He didn’t say anything, but Lance still hugged back. Releasing his son, Alfor grabbed at Lance’s hand one last time and squeezed it before directing him to look back up to the raised dais. 

 

Lance exhaled one last time, slowly hoping he could make it through the bonding that was about to take place with at least a small measure of grace.

 

And with that, he mounted the dais and strode towards the Black Paladin.

 

* * *

 

When Shiro ducked and Lance slipped the black jeweled circlet on to his head, he shifted closer to Lance, eyes never leaving his own. 

 

"You accept?" The acolyte asked, stepping forward. 

 

Shiro's smile was impossibly sincere this close and he gave a short nod. "Absolutely." 

 

Lance's eyes shot down to the floor the second he was released from Shiro's gaze. 

 

The acolyte stepped forward then, sliding his hand down Lances back, "Then his highness is now ready to bond." 

 

The touch was meant to slide down Lances spine, activating the Omega glands lining his vertebrae. Lance stepped forward though, squirming from the foreign touch, glancing back behind him at the invasion of his space. He didn't like it. It didn't soothe him like some textbooks may claim. If that was because of his nerves or a different reason, Lance wasn't sure. But he knew he didn't want the acolyte touching him again. 

 

There was just something about it... 

 

It wasn't till he felt Shiro's hands at his arms, tugging him closer that Lance realized that he had inadvertently stepped into Shiro's personal space. 

 

Lance felt like he might shake apart as he finally looked up at the newly christened Black Paladin. 

 

Fierceness, bravery, leadership--qualities of a Black. Lance almost audibly gulped as his mind raced around the concept. Did he want all that in a mate? His gut reaction was no, he didn't. He never ever expected to be life bonded. He thought he'd more then likely find another Omega, one that was gentle and kind and pretty. He'd always imagined himself bonding--a regular one, without all the eternal consequences of a life bond--to a cute girl, one that giggled when he looked at her, one that would blush as she looked at him, shorter than him and possibly adored Lance’s dorky nature. It was easier with your own second gender after all. It didn't require all the fuss. It was easy understanding the other and their motives. Not like trying to understand the works of an Alpha. God, talk about impossibly frustrating--

 

Shiro smiled again, and tried to coax Lance closer. 

 

Of course. Lance wasn't standing in the enclave of the royal throne room with a cute omega by his side. No. He was standing with an Alpha, about to enter into an unbeatable bond with an Alpha. About to hand over every thing to a man he'd only shared a few moments of small talk with. 

 

Lance looked away, trying to get himself to calm. He could have a mental breakdown later. Right now, he was surrounded by everyone he'd ever met and they were all eyes on him. 

 

“Come closer?” Shiro hummed into Lance's ear. 

 

Shiro stepped back and sat on a stool placed there for him. 

 

It was starting. 

 

Shiro was tugging Lance forward--

 

Oh god, it was starting. He'd pull Lance closer to him in just a moment. 

 

Alphas were never gentle with it. Lance was a fucking Prince after all, he'd watched these things, he knew. He'd seen Omegas whine and struggle and sometimes--sometimes scream. 

 

Lance’s hands shakily went to his face, trying to cover the evidence of the panic now pounding through his veins. He didn't know if he could do this. He didn't know if he could let everyone watch as he went through it. 

 

"Shhhhh," Shiro's cooed to him, this time his hand came around Lance's waist as he tugged him closer, pulling him against Shiro's chest. 

 

Lance realized he was gasping for air as Shiro tried to guide him to sit on his knee. 

 

"No." Lance finally managed. 

 

Was that—Lance pulled his hands away. They still shook, but even more--Lance let out a sob realizing he was already crying. His hands pulled in, arms flattening at the sides of his rib cage, trying to protect himself. 

 

He pivoted, turning his back to the crowd before another sob started to shake though him, trembling though his shoulders. 

 

Shiro more than accommodated. His arm loosened, letting Lance switch his position before with a swift tug he scouted Lance in to his knee and pulled him flush into his chest. 

 

"Shhhh, it's alright," Shiro tried again. 

 

"No," Lance curled in, hunching his shoulders. "I don't wanna do this." 

 

Shiro nodded. His eyes flicked to the crowd beyond them. "I know." He murmured to Lance. His face was very close, voice low, only meant for the two of them. "I would have preferred to do this privately." 

 

That wasn't what Lance had meant. He didn't want any of this. He had never wanted Shiro, he doubted he ever would. His hands balled into fists as Lance hunched more, his eyes squeezing shut. 

 

There was a whoosh, and a rush of air before Lance felt something settling around him. He opened his eyes just enough to realize Shiro had the inky black cloak now encasing Lance as well. Lance looked down at the magical fabric. It was even more brilliant up close. It was eons and eons of galaxies all at his finger tips. 

 

And then there was Shiro, his arms winding under the cloak, coaxing Lance closer, setting him up on his knee a bitmore stable. 

 

Lance crammed his eyes closed again. 

 

"It's alright." Shiro was at his ear. Lance could feel his breath against his hair. 

 

"I promise you," Shiro's voice was deep, deep enough it rumbled through Lances bones. "It will never be like this again between us. I'm so sorry, this wasn't my choice. I will never put you through this humiliation again." 

 

That was—Lance stiffened. He hadn't expected that. 

 

Suddenly though, Shiro's hand was in Lance's hair. It was petting through Lance’s soft short cut. When he lifted the moonflower wreath from Lance’s head, it was so easily Lance barely noticed. 

 

Lance didn't open his eyes as he heard the rustle of clothing and the shuffle of footsteps. Shiro was handing the wreath off to an acolyte. 

 

That was the sign. They were about to begin. Lance felt himself shiver. He was having a hard time breathing again. He curled farther in, squeezing his eyes so tightly shut. He didn't want this. He so badly didn't want this. 

 

A thought sparked. He still had time, he could run. He could spring away from Shiro right now and run for it. 

 

But then a warm hand was cradling Lances neck and the back of his head. 

 

The whine was involuntary. But Shiro responded by nosing along Lanced cheek bone. 

 

"You're alright." Shiro assured in the softest of whisper. "I'll be as quick as I can." 

 

Lance knew he should acknowledge but he couldn't. He was so--scared, for the first time in his entire life he was so ridiculously scared. 

 

"Left or right?" Shiro asked. 

 

Lance tried to process the question. His mind was racing too fast to process. Did it matter? Who would really care? Why did Shiro care? 

 

"I--" Lance tried to answer. "Uh--left." His left side was already pressed to Shiro. He wouldn't have to turn. Lance couldn't turn. He couldn't witness his family standing there, letting this happen to him--

 

Lance gasped. Shiro had shifted the hand at his neck and long fingers were now rubbing gentle circles to the secondary glands at the base of Lances skull. It was instinctual that Lance leaned his head back into the touch. His mouth dropped open as he felt the hormones flood his blood stream. 

 

His head tipped farther back, his neck arching as he pressed into Shiro's hand. 

 

"That's it," Shiro's mouth was at Lances throat. "Relax into it. Let yourself open up to me." 

 

Lance gave a shaky breath as his head rest back into Shiro's hand. He kept up the slow but soothing massage at the base of Lances skull. 

 

He'd never been touched there, he was a prince after all. He was never really touched anywhere, no matter what his second gender was. He'd heard others whispering about it, how good it felt to have Omega glands stimulated. Lance’s mouth dropped open as he gulped in air. They were all so very right. It felt fucking amazing. 

 

And foggy. He was floating and-- 

 

There was a hand at Lance's ascot. It was tugging and pulling and untangling before it was loosened. Lance hummed as the delicate fabric was pulled away and passed off to another acolyte. Shiro didn't stop there though. His fingers plucked at the buttons of Lance's shirt. One, two, at the third Shiro tugged the fabric away, before his fingers traced a delicate line up form Lances now exposed hollow of his throat all the way up over his Adam's apple and ending with a gentle swipe against his chin. 

 

Lance was trembling with the sensation. His whole body felt like it was pulsing hot lava through his veins. Every nerve ending was lit and at attention. 

 

With his neck now exposed, Shiro nosed in just at the underside of Lances jaw. The action sent a thrill through his veins. 

 

Another wave of hormones flooded into Lance. 

 

Those were his primary glands. Tucked just under his jaw line. 

 

It felt--amazing. Like the ones at the back of his head, only twice the impact, twice the sensitivity, he could feel Shiro's every breath against his neck suddenly. When Shiro brushed against Lances glands again— a gasp shuddered out of Lance. 

 

Wow, that felt so good. 

 

Shiro shifted, pressing into Lance as he tipped his head and his mouth moved over Lance’s throat. 

 

Lance felt drunk on the movement. 

 

Then there was something wet moving against Lance's gland. And Shiro's mouth was covering it and suckling. 

 

Oh wow—Lance shivered. He knew his primary glands were swelling, he could feel the spiked sensitivity, it was just so—Lance whined, turning into Shiro as much as he could. 

 

One of his hands worked their way out of the cloak and grasped at Shiro's uniform. His fingers curling in the fabric. 

 

He tried to duck his head, to turn his face into Shiro, to try and press his face into him maybe— 

 

But suddenly Shiro's grip on the back of his neck changed. He was no longer massaging circles into Lance’s glands, no he was gripping Lance’s neck tight, holding him still. 

 

Lance’s eyes opened. It was just feeling so good, why would Shiro—? 

 

It happened in a split second. Shiro was suckling, nibbling at the swollen gland, laving it with his tongue and kissing at Lance’s neck and then-- 

 

Lance gasped this time aloud and his eyes shot wide. 

 

Shiro sunk his teeth in fast and hard. 

 

The heightened sensitivity was now spiked with horrible pain. It speared through him. Lance arched and gasped again.

 

Shiro wasn't letting go, if anything his grip tightened on Lance's neck and his hand came up to lay over Lances thighs. 

 

"Shiro," Lance gasped. His fingers flew to Shiro's uniform this time digging in with force as he tried to blink past the pain. He tried to let him know, let the Alpha know. He was hurting. It hurt so bad and he didn't want it-- 

 

Shiro let up a little, a slick sickening wet sound accompanying the action. 

 

Lance breathed in relief. It was over. His Alpha would stop now. 

 

Lance relaxed back into Shiro's arms. 

 

Shiro was pulling in a gulp of a breath before he clamped his mouth back down on Lances neck. 

 

This time Lance couldn't stop the yowl of pain and he bucked as he felt like he was impaled again. Something liquid and warm ran down Lance’s neck. His hands fought like mad, tearing into Shiro and his legs tried to kick up. 

 

He was stopped swiftly as Shiro forced the hand at his thighs down, and trapped Lance there against him. 

 

Lance gasped for gulps of air. It was so much worse this time. He whined and whimpered as he started to feel the blood trickling more vivid trails down his neck. Oh god, it hurt it hurt it hurt. 

 

He was feeling dizzy. He opened his mouth to pull in air. It seemed so thin. He squeezed his eyes shut as pain spiked again. His eyes were tearing up from it. 

 

It was like a fucking jackhammer to his nerves, he felt like he was being drilled into, like he was being ripped into. 

 

God it was so horrible. The world was spinning and Lance felt so alone and his fingers, his deft fingers clawed at the Alpha over him. How could he do this? 

 

It felt like Shiro was clawing his way and burrowing into Lance's very soul. It felt horrible. It was like lightening searing through him. 

 

God he couldn’t—his mouth gaped for breath, a half cry dying on his lips. 

 

He knew he was crying again but he couldn't stop. His suit coat was soaked in the blood, that lovely soft white shirt underneath destroyed. 

 

Lance finally let go, sagging into Shiro and—was gone. 

 

* * *

 

He didn't recognize the canopy over head. Lance’s canopy was blue. A deep royal blue like every thing in his room. 

 

Blinking, Lance shifted in the crisp sheets and immediately stopped. 

 

Every bone, every muscle and every tip of him surged with a dull ache. Memory rushed back to him as he lay there, frozen. 

 

Right. Of course this wasn't anything he recognized, Lance wasn't sleeping in his own room anymore. He may never be again. 

 

"They're calling you weak!" A voice suddenly hissed. 

 

Lance immediately let himself rest back into the pillows, flicking his eyes closed to feign sleep again. 

 

It was distant, but Lance heard the shuffled footsteps entering the quarters, the click of the double doors behind them. Whom ever had entered, they weren't in the main bedroom, only in the sitting room just before. 

 

Lance had no double Shiro probably had a couple other adjoining rooms as well. Lance's own quarters had had a master bathroom and a small parlor for entertaining attached. 

 

"What did you expect of me?" 

 

That voice. Lance involuntarily let out a breath as that deep voice vibrated through him. He'd know it anywhere now. He would be able to pinpoint it across a vast crowd. It thumbed through his bones, and wrapped around his senses, pounding in his ears. It was Shiro. 

 

Right, so that was what a bond felt like. Lance closed his mouth and tried to relax back into the sheets. 

 

"A ceremony that was supposed to take ten minutes took close to an hour and a half!" This was the first voice. The displeasure was manifest in the way he growled every word. 

 

Lance knew that voice. Or at least he thought he did. It was familiar. He just couldn't quite place it. He knew he'd heard it before. 

 

"I wasn't going to just rip his throat out." Shiro argued back. 

 

"Why? Every other Alpha would have!" 

 

Rax. 

 

Lance almost let a gasp slip as it dawned on him. That voice was Rax. He was the brother of Hunks girlfriend. Lance had only met him once. He was an emissary here for the Balmera. 

 

"He's still the Blue Paladin and a Prince to this nation." Shiro again. "I wasn't going to force him the entire way." 

 

"Your common courtesy just started enough rumors flying to wreak everything we've built." 

 

Even from the next room, Lance could feel the uncomfortableness of the silence. 

 

There was the shuffle of footsteps again before Rax spoke. "Forgive me. But you have to realize, you can't be so concerned with--" 

 

"He's half the influential power here." Shiro's voice dipped into that Alpha tone, prompting a shiver from Lance. "I wasn't going to start out a monster to him. And don't worry about anything they say, the act was seen as merciful from Alteans, and that's the only opinion I'm worried about right now." 

 

Trying to get a look, Lance tried to discreetly tip his head-- 

 

Pain shot through him like a bolt and Lance let out a groan. His hand shot up to his jaw as his eyes squeezed shut in an expression of anguish. 

 

He realized then there was a large bandage at the side of his neck, taped across his left side and up under his jaw, gauze and a bandage secured tight over his now ripped open gland. 

 

There was shuffling in the next room, a set of foot steps coming closer to the entryway of the bedroom. 

 

Quietly, Lance heard Rax dismiss himself, "I'll take my leave." 

 

Shiro must have given some nonverbal conformation, because in the next second there was the sound of a door opening, footsteps and then the door clicking shut. 

 

The bed next to him dipped and Lance was suddenly assaulted with the smell of-- _Alpha_. Lance breathed it in. It wasn't what he'd ever expected. Shiro's scent was fine tuned to Lance now and Lance could pick every part of it up. It was so wonderful. It was a cool scent like swaying pine trees and rich roasted black coffee, small hint of cloves and cardamom.

 

He liked it. A lot. 

 

"Let me see," Shiro was leaning over Lance. 

 

Then his fingers were touching him. Lance almost stopped breathing again. Oh, he enjoyed that. He wanted to tangle his fingers with Shiro's. He was allowed to do that right? He could do what ever he wanted with Shiro now. That was the point of a life bond. 

 

"Lance," the deep tone brought Lance back to the surface and he cracked his eyes open. 

 

Shiro's expressionless face struck Lance at that moment. He'd never particularly thought of Shiro as handsome. The shock of white forelock and scar he knew was a topic among a lot of people, mentioning how rugged he looked, how dashingly brave it made him appear, but Lance had never cared for it. Well, at least till now. 

 

He tried to push himself up on an elbow. 

 

"Woah ," Shiro pressed forward, hands going to Lance’s arms to stop him. "You should probably be staying down." 

 

“Yeah, but I wanna touch it," Lance blurted. 

 

Shiro gave an expression at that. "What?" He asked as his eyebrows shot up. 

 

"Your hair," Lance insisted. "It looks—soft.” He reached forward to Shiro's face. "I wanna touch it." 

 

Not waiting for an answer this time, Lance pushed up onto one elbow and pressed his fingers forward, slipping them through the strands of Shiro's white forelock. 

 

Shiro still looked a bit shocked but he allowed the action. His hands even smoothed down along Lance’s sides, leaning down so Lance didn't need to reach so far. 

 

Lance brushed his fingers through the white strands, brushing them up and away from Shiro's face. His eyes were so--they were like the cloak. They were dark but so deep. He could get lost in those eyes, he actually might enjoy that. 

 

And his hair, it was soft. Silky and fine in a way neither Lance or his sisters was. The strands easily parted for Lance’s fingers, curling around his hand just slightly. Lance pulled his fingers through the strands letting them fall away and flop back iNto Shiro’s face as he marvels after it. He’d very much enjoyed that. 

 

When Lance finally let his hand fall away he continued to just stare at Shiro. He was marveling him really. This creature was his. From head to toe, he was one hundred percent Lance’s from this moment on. He'd never imagined a life bond would feel like this. He never imagined it would feel like anything. He thought it was just like tying a string between two people, it made them connected for forever. It didn't feel like that at all right then. It felt like his souls was stitched to Shiro's now, like his world was Shiro. Like he was linked to a god. 

 

"You're very lovely." 

 

Shiro's words were so softly spoken Lance almost didn't catch them. 

 

Out of embarrassment, Lance dropped his hand. Flushed as he tried to think of what to say in return. 

 

“All finished now?" Shiro inquired, tipping his head towards Lance. 

 

Lance nodded, biting his lip in that same embarrassment. Right, he'd just demanded to touch Shiro's hair like a freaking toddler. That was probably quite the impression. 

 

"Let's try again then," Shiro's more business-like voice was back, though he was still leaned into Lance. "How are you feeling?" 

 

Lance took stock for a moment. "I'm tired." He answered surprisingly honest. “And—" he shifted a bit uncomfortably. 

 

“You’re hurting." Shiro concluded.

 

Lance looked away instead of answering. The sharp memories of exactly what Shiro had done to him were whirling their way back into Lance’s mind. 

 

"Let me see," Shiro leaned a bit more forward and his finger tips went to Lance’s jaw, tipping his head back. 

 

Lance could remember his head tipping back, Shiro's hands had been touching him then too and it had been so nice, and then suddenly—Lance shot away from Shiro's touch, flattening himself against the headboard. 

 

Shiro noticed, but didn't react, only pressed forward, taking Lance’s chin back into his hand more securely this time, not letting Lance shy away as he tipped Lance’s face up. 

 

His other hand pressed out around the ruptured left gland. Precise and cleanly, Shiro peeled one side of the bandage away to reveal some of the wound. A part of Lance wished there was a mirror at the ready so that he could have a look at the bond scar. He'd seen them before but he was quite curious how his own would turn out. 

 

Shiro smoothed the bandage back into place and released Lance's chin. 

 

"Good, it hasn't reopened." Shiro reported. "It shouldn't need to be repeated either since it looks like a scar mark is already forming." 

 

Lance knew he paled a bit at the last sentence, his eyes widening a fraction. "You mean you'd do that to me again?" 

 

Shiro had been leaning away already looking ready to depart as Lance spoke. He looked up in surprise. “Well, I just said I won't have to, you're healing perfectly well." He tipped his head. "It looks like your mark will be silver by the way, you’re sure to garner plenty of attention for it." 

 

Lance shook his head. "But if it hadn't taken, you'd do that again?" He pressed on with the question. 

 

Looking a bit taken off guard for once, Shiro pressed his metal hand over Lance’s covered legs. "Yes, I would make sure our bonding was whole." 

 

"I went through agony." Lance expressed. 

 

Something flashed through Shiro, a recognition for just a split second before he sat a bit straighter. "I know." His voice was much more stoic than Lance had heard yet, 

 

The metal arm on his legs Lance realized then—was cold. The metal was cold, even through the covers. 

 

"And if the bonding had failed? Lance pressed. "If the universe had decided that we weren't meant for each other, would you have still kept at it?" It had felt like he'd almost killed Lance at that moment. 

 

"It didn't fail." Shiro's brow lowered then. 

 

It was an entirely different message though that Lance received, Shiro didn't fail, ever. 

 

"The universe has deemed you mine," Shiro growled low. "And that mark proves it final."

 

And very clearly not up for discussion. 

 

Standing from the bed, Shiro looked away from Lance. "Get some rest. You've been through a lot." 

 

Without another word, in a straight backed, military perfected stride, Shiro left the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come keep me company on my [Tumblr: PitchGold](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/). We can scheme and contrive together over Voltron or Shiro or Lance Or Keith, or just any of it.


	2. II

When he could finally manage to get out of bed and dress on his own, Lance had decided to pull on real cloths. The night shirt and soft cotton sleep pants he wore were nice, albeit not exactly princely. Though with the ache dissipating it took a surprising amount of time to simply pull on pants and a shirt. He managed boots but as he rummaged around he couldn't find his circlet anywhere. He decided to forgo it in the end as well as a jacket. He highly doubted he would manage to stumble into anything important anyway. 

 

Making his way out of the bedroom, he finally took a moment to observe his new surroundings. Shiro's quarters were—very black. Charcoal furniture, black accents, black everything. And if not black, then a deep Galaxy purple. The over washing color he realized though was grey. It marked the black to stand out more, but it was what most of the walls and even the bed linens had been made up in. 

 

Lance wasn't so sure how used to it he could get, his own rooms were all whites and creams splashed with his signature brilliant blue. 

 

As he had expected there was a lot of rooms to Shiro's quarters. The entry sitting room was the hub of his quarters, it led directly through double doors to the largest room, the bedroom. It had the vast canopy bed with walk-in closets on either side for them both. Lance being as nosey as he was, looked in Shiro's first. The most concise description of Shiro's wardrobe was: More Black. It was all functional black as well, cloths for training or strict uniforms. Nothing that just was there to be there. In his own closet it looked as if about half of Lance's cloths had been brought over. 

 

The bedroom from there was one more room deep leading to the large bathroom. All of it was polished black metal of course and cool grey marble. 

 

Once back in the sitting room, there was a door on either side. The one on the right led to what looked like Shiro's office that could double as another sitting room, with a massive dark grey wood desk, imperial style it dominated the room. There was also a small group of chairs and a cozy love seat arranged around a fireplace. On the left led to a small parlor. The most striking feature of the room was the piano. 

 

Right. This room must have been designated Lance’s. It wasn't like the others. The grey was gone in here, with mostly white surfaces all around. There was still plenty of black as well. But on a white coffee table sat a beautiful cobalt blue vase, a bouquet of moon flowers resting in it. Soft looking sofas were arranged and book cases lined around a massive window with wispy sheer linen treatments. 

 

Well, at least Shiro had planned on giving Lance some of his own space. Lance could live with that. 

 

Before he left the quarters he looked around the sitting room again. One thing did strike him this time, how little was decorating the quarters. There were no pictures on the wall. It was all very regal. But it was also--minimalist and in way Lance wasn't sure he could appreciate. It was too much bare marble for his tastes. 

 

* * *

 

Before Lance ever made it to his former rooms to see if there was any of his belongings that had been left behind he ran into the one person he never wanted to see—

 

"Your highness!" Coran's quirky accent never did quite soothe Lance. "Your highness! I'm not so sure you should be out of bed!" 

 

Oh god, if Lance stayed in bed one more minute he'd die of boredom! "I'm perfectly fine, Coran." Lance monotoned. 

 

"No," Coran insisted. "No, I was given the strictest of edicts by the Black Paladin himself," Coran leanedin towards Lance, hand to the side of his mouth as if he were telling a secret, "your newest bond mate," Coran raised his eyebrows in a way Lance never wanted to see again. "That you, my prince, are to remain in your rooms till you have properly regained your strength." 

 

Coran cleared his throat then. "And if I might say, I witnessed you bonding sir and I think it to be sound advice." 

 

And Lance had almost forgotten the part about how literally everybody he had ever known had watched Lance writhe in pain as Shiro had bite his way into Lance's soul and sealed them together. 

 

Lance just held out his arms though, gesturing to himself. "As you can see I have regained my strength!" He hopped from one foot to the other. "Look I can ever managed to walk all by my self." He twirled around already on the path back to his own room. "Relax Coran, I'm just fine." 

 

Coran was already dancing back to Lances side though. "Please, our highness!" He exclaimed before taking Lances arm, "let me at least assist you!"

 

"Coran, I'm fine!" Lance groaned. 

 

"No-no, I must insist!" 

 

With a huff out of puffed up cheeks and a lowered brow, Lance gave in. "Fine." 

 

Coran gently took one of Lance’s arms. 

 

"I was headed to my bedroom." 

 

"Of course, this way sir," Coran pivoted them and started leading Lance back to the Black Paladin’s quarters. 

 

"Not my new ones!" Lance exclaimed. " _My bedroom_." 

 

Coran stopped for a moment. "Your highness, I—“ 

 

Lance caught on this time as he saw the advisors face. "I know, Coran." He huffed. "They're not mine any more." He intently tried to stare straight ahead. "I live with Shiro now. I get it. You don't need to break it to me." 

 

"Of course, your highness." 

 

Lancefelt a bit too much like he was being humored all of a sudden and with a determined look he gestured off towards his old rooms.

 

"Come on," he gruffed, "I just wanna go make sure every thing I want was retrieved and sent to Shiro’s—er—the Black Paladin Quarters." 

 

"Absolutely, Your Highness!" Coran already was striding forward, pulling Lance along by his arm. "I will lead the way." 

 

* * *

 

It seemed Lances escapade came at a price. After going through his room with a group of servants at his beck and call, he'd been goaded by Coran into dinner—with his family. Lovely. 

 

Lance couldn't say he minded all that much. He'd had a productive evening. He had all of his books sent over, doubled the wardrobe sent, (adding the more fashionable picks back in, might he add) had the small jewelry armoire sent with all its contents and picked out the trinkets and little things he wanted to keep. By the time he got back, he just might have managed to carve his own little niche into the Black Paladin quarters. 

 

That's when Coran had sprung it on him, asking if Lance felt tired or light headed at all. Lance had quibbed, assuring Coran he was in perfect health! 

 

Which was just marvelous because that meant he could go to dinner with his sister and father and the rest of the Paladins and courtiers! Wasn't that wonderful! 

 

And that's how he managed to find himself trying to sneak into the grand dining room. 

 

As he glanced around at the head table he noticed his fathers absence. It was becoming more common. But what struck him more was the absence of his new bond mate as well. 

 

Allura was already midway through holding her own preemptive court. She laughed at a joke of the baron honorably seated next to her. 

 

Lance gave a sigh of relief as he tried to scurry to his seat. 

 

Only to be stopped by Coran. 

 

"I believe your highness, your new place is up here." He already had Lance’s arm looped through his own as he guided Lance up to the raised head-table. 

 

At the center of the table, the Kings chair sat empty, and to the left sat Allura, now looking at Lance with crystalline eyes. And on the right was the seat belonging to the Black Paladin—Well it had been Red Paladin when Lance’s father still held the title, the point was it was the first ranking Paladin’s seat. Only there were two chairs at the ready. 

 

And Lance was quickly being guided into the second. 

 

"Coran," Lance tried to protest. He even stopped, halting Coran as he tried to explain. "I don't think..." 

 

He hadn't ever really sat at the head table. He was the Second Prince after all, he sat with the rest of the Paladins, next to Hunk at the left table and—

 

"Prince." 

 

The deep voice, as always, played down Lance’s spine like a Xelaphone.

 

Lance turned just as Shiro stepped up to him. 

 

"I'm not so sure you should be out of bed." Shiro said thankfully quiet enough only Lance and Coran could hear. It was also accompanied by a look towards Coran, one of clear scolding. 

 

"I," Lance spoke up before the advisor could be accused of any wrong doing. "I feel really well." He said. "I just wanted out of that bedroom for a while. I won’t strain myself. I’ve just been there all day, and all yesterday.” 

 

Shiro's gaze shifted to Lance. It was so terribly unreadable as he seemed to consider Lance. "Alright, I can definitely understand that." 

 

With that, he turned to his seat, brushing past in a soft manner. Lance realized it was in such a way that suggested Shiro expected to be followed. 

 

Dutifully, Lance let Coran pull out the chair next to the Black Paladin and Lance seated himself next to his new mate. 

 

"I have to say," Allura spoke upa seat away, though her calculating gaze flicked from Lance to settle on Shiro. "I'm quite surprised to see you up and about, baby brother."

 

Lance gave a glare in his sisters direction. "I'm not an invalid." He mumbled. 

 

Allura opened her mouth, expression clear that she was about to contest--

 

"I've made sure he's doing well." Shiro's vice rumbled next to Lance. There was a new edge to this tone. Something Lance had never heard before. It was dismissal. 

 

Lance blinked. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone talk like that to his sister. People talked to him like that—well more often than Lance liked, but to Allura—no, that was blasphemy. 

 

Farther down the table, Allura’s eyes narrowed as she regarded Shiro, taking a sip from her glass of dark rose liquid. 

 

Lance looked away from her eyes. Hesitant, he started to pick at his meal. 

 

Shiro had relaxed into him by the end of the night, an arm going to loosely and casually rest at his shoulders but he barely looked at him and there was little talking besides from the Baron at the table, still trying to convince Allura of some legislation or another. 

 

At an opportune moment, Lance cleared his throat, “I think I should return to our room now.”

 

Shiro nodded beside Lance before he turned to him. His hand curled around Lance’s shoulder. “I’ll have Coran escort you back.” 

 

Lance tried to shake his head. “I’m sure that’s not necessary.” 

 

Shiro gave a slow nod, before his eyes alighted and rested on Lance. “It’ll make me feel better.” His tone was soft, but still decisive and he lifted his arm, motioning. 

 

“Your highness,” Corna graciously offered Lance a hand. 

 

He didn’t need it. But with a frown, Lance knew that wasn’t the rules of this game, so he took the offered hand as he stood. 

 

Just as asked, Coran made sure Lance got back to his room. 

 

* * *

 

The canopy over head still wasn’t his, and it was still jarring as he opened his eyes. Nineteen years of waking under a blue sky canopy had been ingrained in him. Shiro’s was so different. It was the same magical quality Lance had noticed on most of his formal wear. The canopy was like staring up at a brilliant eternal night. 

 

But his attention was quickly drawn away. There was speaking in the room around him he realized as he shifted in the sheets. 

 

“This isn’t exactly a prime moment.” It was Shiro’s voice and he was clearly agitated. “I’m sure his highness would prefer to sleep.” 

 

The staunch and dodgy voice that followed made Lance groan. “The whims of his highness fall second nature to that of the Godess.” 

 

He raised a hand, laying it across his face. 

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance could see the acolyte take a striding step forward. Unfortunately for him, Lance’s new mate was twice the size of just about every Altean Lance knew. 

 

A metal hand lay across Lances legs, as if to soothe but it just caused Lance to shiver from its cold touch. 

 

Shiro ran with it, gesturing to the door. "My bond-mate is tired.” He hissed. "I don't care if you're the lion Goddess herself, until Lance is feeling better I will have to insist you leave." 

 

A smaller second acolyte stepped up from the door, pointing out. "His highness was in attendance last night for dinner, we only wish a few moments of his time, and I'm sure if he is well enough for court, he is well enough for this." 

 

Lance almost considered moaning in mock pain. The hand at his leg twitched, the metal constricting just slightly enough to squeeze Lance’s ankle through the covers. 

 

"Fine." Shiro gruffed, before to Lance's surprise he sat at the side of the bed. "A few minutes." He darkly snarled under his breath. 

 

The snarl was enough to have Lance's nerves back in a tissie but he didn't comment as he finally removed his hand, he tried to push himself up, to find that Shiro was there quickly propping him up against the headboard, while equally glaring at their two robed guests. 

 

The agitation off of Shiro was clear. Lance made a mental note that his mate clearly didn’t like his orders ignored. 

 

The head Acolyte payed Shiro little attention as he snapped his fingers and a servant brought over a chair for him. 

 

"Now your highness," the smaller one approached the bed, he had on impossibly thick glasses. But he gave a wrinkly smile as he approached Lance. "We're here to make sure you understand your new role and that your mate also," he gestured to Shiro giving him another wrinkly smile. "Understands. There is much deemed improper to talk of in everyday life, but is necessary knowledge for a happy life-bonding.” 

 

Lance was froze. 

 

Shiro next to him wore a puzzled expressing as his brow lowered, looking at the acolytes. 

 

They were getting a sex talk. Together. In their bedroom. With Lance still in bed, in fact. 

 

A chair was presented to the elder smaller Acolyte, and though quite frail looking ,he gingerly sat down. 

 

"Now I realize in our society it is much more common to marry among your own second gender." The elder acolyte when on. "There are several reasons for this, but simply because it is easier to connect with someone on the same level as yourself. But as I'm sure the two of you are aware, You two are of the opposing second gender, Shiro as an Alpha and your highness as an Omega." 

 

Lance was watching as it slowly dawned on Shiro exactly where this topic was leading. His brow slowly raised with each word, higher and higher till Lance was pretty sure it might reach his hair line. 

 

The elder paused, looking to them both. 

 

He wanted—an answer, right? Lance cleared his throat. “Yes, we are both aware of our own and of each other’s presentation." 

 

"Oh good." The elder gave another smile. "Then which of you would like to go first?" 

 

Lance blinked. Shiro next to him was still just staring.

 

"Pardon?" Lance asked. 

 

"I'll take that as a volunteering," the elder enthusiastically gestured and launched in. "Omegas are traditionally the nurture’s. As well, it will be you that bares an heir. They have great responsibility as well as a capacity for caring.” 

 

Well, that wasn't nearly as embarrassing as Lance had thought it would be. 

 

Then the snooty, fat acolyte started to speak. To Shiro, of course. "Your Omega has three sets of glands primarily responsible for comfort and once stimulated cooperation and arousal." 

 

The acolyte stood, taking one step towards the bed—only to be met by the Shiro wall again. 

 

The fat acolyte looked up at Shiro as if he was the one in clear violation. ”If I may demonstrate—“ 

 

"No." The finality in Shiro's voice at that moment was both terrifying and the most relieving thing Lance had ever heard. The last thing he would ever want was some pudgy acolyte smudging his grubby fingers over Lance’s sparkly parts. 

 

Undeterred, the acolyte leered at Shiro and went on. “Well, I will simply point them out then." 

 

Knowing there wasn't much way probably around it, Lance opted to just get through it as quickly as possible. He reached out to tug at Shiro's hand just enough to get his attention and give a small nod. 

 

Shiro still didn’t move much, glancing at Lance before he slid a step back to the bed, sitting this time directly between the acolyte and Lance. 

 

"Right," the acolyte huffed. “Now, I am sure you’re aware the primary glands are situated just under the jaw." He gestured to Lance’s bandage. "During your mating, you bit into his left one in fact. But more on that later. These glands are the first you should seek out when trying to calm or persuade your Omega. These glands will zero your Omega’s focus on to you, bringing his awareness solely to his Alpha." 

 

The acolyte gave another sweeping gesture to the back of Lance’s neck. "At the base of an Omega's skull is a set of secondary glands. When stimulated they will calm your Omega, easing any tension or resistance from his muscles." He gave a sweeping gesture downward. "These glands actually branch off and line your Omega’s spine in much smaller glands all the way down. Again they act much the same, inducing a state of contentedness and combating tension." 

 

"And finally there is the glands at the base of the spine, laying at the level of the sacrum." The acolyte didn't gesture this time, only eyed Lance where he sat against the head board. 

 

Shiro's expression didn't budge from malevolent allowing as he glared at the acolyte. And in answer, Lance flattened his back against the headboard a bit more. That—he defiantly didn’t want anyone touching down there. 

 

Lance was a prince. No one was allowed to touch him without his permission. No one had ever even tried if his memory served. To a certain measure, Shiro hadn't even tried. 

 

But if there was one category of people that could feel they still had the right, it would be a man thinking he was the hand-piece of the gods. 

 

That gaze thankfully didn't last long before the acolyte turned, speaking to Shiro again. "Though the primary glands are the most important, these base secondary are possibly the most sensitive. When stimulated, you can encourage your Omega into arousal, and deep stimulation will allow the production of lubricant." 

 

"And an Alpha?" Lance wasn't sure exactly what he was thinking cutting in, but he fluttered his eyes innocently as he pressed. "Please educate me on an Alpha's physiology as well." 

 

The acolyte looked from Lance and back to Shiro. Shiro's expression, if possible ,plunged even more stone cold and his arms crossed. Lance was starting to really love when he did that. Between biceps as big as Lance’s thighs and a chest tight enough Lance might be able to play his abs like drums, it had this sort of puffing effect, making Shiro look even thicker and more muscular than before. 

 

"Most Alpha physiology is much less complex, it wouldn't be very insightful--" the acolyte tone was already dismissive. 

 

"Your Prince asked for an explanation." Shiro growled. 

 

Not surprising the pudgy acolyte didn't step forward, and offer a "demonstration" on Shiro. Instead he looked uncomfortable before he gave a bit more awkward gesture to Shiro's neck. 

 

"An Alpha also, has three sets of glands. His primary's lay just under his jaw line." 

 

"What do they do?" Lance didn't bat an eyelash as he leaned forward elbowing a pillow under his arms as he slumped over it, lazing across the bed. 

 

"They are major production sites of testerone. Your Alpha is no doubt very large and strong because of his healthy primary glands." 

 

That was a wonderful bullshit answer. "Yes, but what happens when I touch them?" Lance emphasized. 

 

The acolyte pursed his lips uncomfortably but answered. "The Alpha will respond—his focus will narrow to that of the closest Omega, or in your case your highness if you are touching him, he will focus on you." 

 

Lance nodded like it was new information before going on. "And the others?" 

 

The acolyte cleared his throat before he spoke. "His secondary will be at the base of his skull. When touched as well, these glands will calm an Alpha, specifically during times of spiked aggression or agitation." He gestured down to Shiro's legs. This time he was speaking much faster. "And the final secondary glands will be on the inside of an Alpha's thighs. They promote arousal, and produce knotting when stimulated." 

 

Oh goodie, so Shiro had sparkly buttons just like Lance! 

 

At this point the elderly acolyte chimed in. "Your highness, we must also inform you about your bond mark." 

 

Lance did actually perk at this. Alpha and Omega physiology was common enough knowledge, but life bond marks-- that was something Lance knew very little about. 

 

"Go on," Lance said. 

 

Next to him, Shiro stiffened. He glanced back at Lance, but didn't comment. 

 

"It is a very specific reason that Shiro had to rupture one of your primary glands." The elder acolyte said carefully. "A fully ruptured gland will grow back, don't worry, but your focus," the elder pointed to Shiro. "Will now forever more be on him. No other Alpha will hold your attention like him again. You may not even feel the effects of others giving you an Alpha Command. And further more the gland once grown back will be more sensitive than before, be prepared, if Shiro touches it after the mark has matured you will become rather enamored with him quite quickly, as well as a possibility of other physical responses." 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

It was actually a bit comforting, there was no way now he would be subjugated to another Alpha, he'd never feel compelled to do something he didn’t want to from another Alpha. Just Shiro. And although a bit bossy—Shiro seemed as a whole quite benevolent. He could live with that. 

 

"Now corresponding, " the elder pointed his gaze towards Shiro, "his mark will have a similar effect on you." 

 

Shiro for once tipped his head. The glare for the first time leaving as he raised an eyebrow."His mark will have a physiological reaction from me?" 

 

"Absolutely!" The elder nodded and pointed at Shiro’s puffed up chest. "You're the one that gave it to him. You're the one that broke that gland, and trust me your hormones will never let you forget it. That mark will be unique and attuned to you. You'll be able to pick it out from across a battlefield if need be. And you're possibly more susceptible then he is. Every time you see it you'll have a physiological reaction. You're an Alpha, you claim, you protect. Well you've already claimed him so now you're going to be obsessed with protecting him." 

 

Lance quirked his head up to see if he could catch Shiro's eye. His lips were drawn in a tight line and his expression unreadable. He could have been a statue if Lance didn't know better. 

 

"Now to the topic of an heir." The elder started. 

 

They both stiffened and Shiro was very quickly standing. 

 

"That's enough for today." 

 

Lance finally breathed as Shiro's voice firmly stopped the elder acolyte. He looked away, giving Lance the briefest of glances before he stepped forward, giving a clear cue it was time for them to go. 

 

"We won't need to produce an heir for quite sometime," Shiro stated. "And I'm sure we both get the jest of it." He gestured to the door, again with that finality that always made others do as he asked. "If we have questions we will come to the temple." 

 

It was just an inkling, but Lance very much doubted they would have any questions. 

 

The elder stared at Shiro for just a moment before standing and complying with a small bow good bye. The pudgy acolyte, on the other hand, looked taken back. 

 

When he didn't move after a breath or two, Shiro fixed his stoic gaze on him. 

 

"If you would, your Prince is tired after all." Shiro concluded. "He needs rest." 

 

It ended any further protests and with in a few minutes the acolytes were gone, leaving Shiro and Lance alone again in their quarters. 

 

For just a second, Lance considered not saying anything, but that part of him never won out and he opened his mouth anyway, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." 

 

Shiro glanced back over his shoulder at Lance as if he hadn't expected the apology. He gave Lance one of those gentle smiles in answer first. 

 

"You didn't. Don't worry about it." 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

There was silence then, a silence Lance wasn't sure if he should break or not. Shiro was still looking at him. His dark eyes still the same expressionless shade. 

 

Before Lance could think of anything else to say, Shiro took a step forward and pulled the sheet up over Lances shoulder. 

 

"Try to rest some more." Shiro said. "The mark will need it to fully mature." 

 

In the end, Lance figured it was best just to give in and he turned into the covers, trying to get comfortable again.

 

* * *

 

Shiro didn’t return to their rooms often. Not that it was surprising. Lance could definitely sympathize. It was awkward being in the room with a soul mate you’ve barely even had a conversation with before. Let alone one that every time he tried to get out of bed a servant was pushing him back in. 

 

Everything about Shiro was brisk and purposeful. He moved mostly quietly, keeping Lance asleep for most of the time. 

 

But there was one other rare form—Unless Shiro was magic at making the bed every morning, he had yet to sleep next to Lance. 

 

Lance wasn’t sure if that frightened him more or less than it relieved him. 

 

“Sire,” Coran had tisked the third night in the room. 

 

He’d pulled off the bed sheets. The dark grey bedsheets that would have shown clear evidence. 

 

Lance blushed but didn’t move to explain himself. 

 

Shiro hadn’t pushed him, and Lance hadn’t offered. It was as simple as that. 

 

* * *

 

Everything was ceremony. Lance just didn't realize that fully until he was the one on the receiving end of it all. 

 

His father was there though, which smiling over at the very old King gave Lance a small measure of confidence. His sister was too of course. They were in the sitting room of the Black Paladin quarters. Lance sat on the main couch, with Shiro next to him. 

 

Across from him, on the facing couch was Lance’s sister. King Alfor had been guided to one of the plush armchairs. Coran was at his side still, attuned to his father, and still listening for any further instruction. There were other courtiers in the room. He didn't recognize most. There was a face he could pick out the best and in the back of the room. Hunk looked over the shoulders of most, down to Lance. As always, he smiled encouragingly to Lance. 

 

Lance was provided a mirror for the first time on the coffee table. It was intricately carved with embellished flowers. 

 

"We should get on with it, your highness," an acolyte whispered over the back of the couch to Lance. 

 

With a hesitant nod, he leaned forward. The mirror was on an equally intricate stand, though when Lance reached out and tipped it so he could see his face, it moved easily enough. He positioned it so that the mirror was tipped so that the bandage at his neck was the focus before sitting forward a bit. 

 

It was just like in the throne room again. Lance glanced around the small crowd present. Did they really need to all be here? Lance was just removing a bandage. It wasn't going to be a surprise to anyone what was under it either. Especially since Shiro, Lance had only just a few moments ago found out, had throw all disregard to the rules and had been periodically peeling the bandage away to make sure Lance was healing well. Apparently this was supposed to be the first time the bandage was removed and seen by all. No wonder, Shiro had always waited till he and Lance were isolated. 

 

Trying to focus back on his task, Lance trained his eyes on the image in the mirror. It would be his first time catching a glimpse of the mark. He felt—he tried to breath evenly. There was no reason to be nervous about it after all.

 

Distantly his first real conversation with Shiro rang in his head though. 

 

What if it wasn't a fully matured mark? What if Lance had to go through that again? Would they do it here? He could feel Shiro's leg where it brushed against his own. Shiro had promised him during the bonding he’d never humiliate Lance like that again. But he’d also made it clear he would make sure the bond was whole. How would Lance know if it was enough? Shiro could just scoop him up into his arms and bare down on him before Lance even had a moment to process. 

 

Would it hurt as bad the second time? 

 

"Lance," 

 

Shiro's voice was tempered as he leaned forward to Lance. 

 

Lance blinked out of his own frantic thoughts. Right. He was still in the room with a couple dozen people all watching him. He looked to Shiro, hoping it would calm his jarring nerves to focus on just one person. 

 

Shiro hesitantly reached forward. "Here let me help," he murmured. 

 

Involuntarily, Lance shifted away. "No. I've got it." 

 

That took Shiro back for a moment, but the micro expression passed quickly as he gave a nod. Instead, he let his hand rest along the back of the couch, relaxing back away from Lance. 

 

Turning back to the mirror, Lance pursed his lips before tipping his head and with long carful fingers he started to peel away the bandage. 

 

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something brush down his back. He stopped just for a second before realizing, it was Shiro's hand. 

 

A second time, Shiro smoothed his hand down Lance’s spine, pressing just slightly as he pet down his back. 

 

Oh. 

 

Lance almost sagged into the touch. Everything about this experience was so entirely new, and this had to be one of the better ones. Unlike before, this had the desired effect. Shiro was activating the glands lining Lances vertebrae and this time it was actually working. Lance almost hummed into the touch as Shiro repeated the action. 

 

With a healthy dose of hormones now settling Lance’s veins, it was easier for him to gingerly pluck the pieces of medical tape away one at a time. 

 

He gave a hiss, as he first tugged at the gauze. It was stuck and pulled at his skin unpleasantly. 

 

Shiro was hunched forward again. "Let me," there was a finality to his voice this time. 

 

Lance perked as he realized. His mate was eager for this. He was hovering around Lance because he wanted to see it. 

 

Lance allowed Shiro, dropping his hands as he tipped his head towards Shiro. He angled it so he could still watch the reveal in the mirror though, 

 

Lance hissed again as Shiro gave a firm tug. 

 

"It's coming," Shiro assured. He was all laser focus as he pried it off with gentle but efficient tugs. One last, fast tug and it was almost entirely free for the first time. 

 

And then, all too quickly, he pulled the bandage away. 

 

The room all let out a general sound of pleased aggreance. Allura across from Lance clasped her hands together as she exclaimed, "oh Lance!" And broke into a smile. 

 

The mark was there. It lined just under Lances jaw. 

 

Shiro had been wrong though, it wasn't silver. 

 

It was pearl. 

 

* * *

 

Quite possibly the one person most obsessed with the mark, was Shiro. 

 

After the bandage had been removed, it was of course cause for celebration. Drinks were being served and several plates of food replaced the lone mirror on the coffee table. 

 

At that moment, Lance stood just to the side of the room. He had been meaning to go join his sister on the couch again, a tall glass of something smooth and crystalline white was in his hand. 

 

That was until he'd felt an arm wind around his waist. At the feel of the cold metal, Lance knew immediately who it was, and instead of protesting he allowed Shiro to step closer. 

 

He leaned in, his other hand was at Lance’s face, tipping Lance’s chin. 

 

He was staring at the mark, 

 

Lance blushed, unsure of what to say. It was there. Fully formed and branding Lance forever more as Shiro's. 

 

"It's beautiful." 

 

The comment was murmured so low, Lance barely caught it. 

 

"It fits you." Shiro went on. He released Lance’s chin to ghost a finger over the mark. "I hadn't realized how becoming it would look on you.”

 

If Lance was blushing before, he was all a terrible flutter now. He had no idea what to say to it and instead just took a sip from his drink. 

 

The action pulled him a bit away from Shiro but not enough that as Lance put the glass down, letting it rest on a small side table near by, he could lean back into Shiro’s touch. It was startling how much he liked it. Lance wasn’t sure he could manage to meet Shiro’s eyes. Not in a million years had he expected this to spark intimacy from this stoic mate. 

 

“It’s different from what I thought.” Shiro said then. 

 

Lance tipped his head to look up at him. “Is it?” Lance brought his hand up to the pearly mark just under his jaw line. 

 

“No,” Shiro's rushed answer was as he quickly brushed Lances hand with his own, bringing it away gently. “In a good way.” He seemed to be rambling. His usual so well thought out comments falling flat. “I just didn’t—I didn’t expect to like it.” His brow was creased, like he was agitated. 

 

Caught in a weird limbo of guilt he wasn’t quite sure he should feel and a sense of camaraderie for the first time. It seemed at least that the bond and all of its consequences were not just affecting Lance in ways he hadn’t expected. 

 

“I get it.” Lance tried to explain him self. He really did after all. He expected Shiro to barely look at him after the life bonding. He had barely even expected to look Shiro’s way. 

 

When Shiro lifted his eyes Lance couldn’t help but smile. 

 

“This is kind of really new for me too.” Lance quipped. “I mean not to brag, but we all knew I was gonna snag a catch,” His breath caught as he bit his lip, looking away. “I just didn’t expect—you.” 

 

Shiro gave a more amused smile at this. The amber liquid in his own drink was untouched still as he reached around and set the drink down on the side table Lance had used as well. 

 

“I’m not sure I ever planned on getting a prince.” Shiro murmured low as he leaned in to set his drink down. It was in that low rumbly voice that played down Lance’s spine so well and spoken so close to him was a nice touch. 

 

Lance’s gaze flicked up to find Shiro was already watching him. 

 

They were so close. Lance could smell the spice of Shiro’s scent. He could feel his breathe. He was so— 

 

Like drifting through a spell, Lance couldn’t help but lean into his mate, tipping his head. 

 

Shiro’s dark grey eyes dusted back down to Lance’s mark. His fingers brushed up over the mark again, caressing it. 

 

Was it really that fascinating to an Alpha? Was this a turn on for him? Lance felt the rush of his own want at that thought. He wanted Shiro to be turned on by him. 

 

The questions crashed through him as Shiro’s fingers slide from Lances skin in a caress. His gaze shifted just slightly and they were looking at each other. 

 

Lance knew this feeling. It was that anticipation of a kiss. It was the rush of feeling like the tension would break any moment and Shiro would dive in and connect them. 

 

Would they? 

 

Shiro was looking at him like he might. Did Lance want that? They hadn’t shared any intimacy at that point. Lance was honestly relieved about it. He wasn’t sure with all the change in his life if he could deal with a handsy Alpha on top of it all. 

 

Lance tipped his head a bit, swallowing as he opened his mouth, making it clear he was open to it and—

 

Shiro glanced away. His arm around Lance’s waist loosened but stayed as Shiro’s gaze drifted out around them. 

 

Lance looked away as well. Resigned to the missed moment as he took another sip from his drink. 

 

In the small corner of the room it was like they were alone for just the brief moment and the expression that crossed Shiro’s face suggested that he wasn’t pleased at the prospect of returning to their guests. 

 

With a bit more bravery then he was used to, Lance leaned in closer to Shiro. “They’ll be gone soon.” he assured. “If nothing else, my father will grow tired and once he’s gone most of the courtiers will leave.” 

 

Shiro glanced at him. “How are you so sure?” a smile was quirking though. Not like his usual gentle encouraging smile, a more secretive one, One Lance immediately knew he preferred. 

 

“Well,” Lance launched into it, picking up his drink again. “I know as a matter of fact, most of these people don’t like me, they haven’t even spoke to me. Now that may be different in your case, but mine I know the only reason they’re here is because I’m moderately important to my father.” 

 

“Moderately important?” Shiro seemed to check, still amused. 

 

“Well as lovely and fascinating as I am, I’m still his goofy second child.” Lance explained with a chuckle. “I may have been bumped a bit more on the importance scale since—“ He gestured between the two of them. “Well, the ya know.” 

 

“We life bonded.” Shiro filled in for him, completely unashamed of saying it. 

 

“Yeah, that.” Lance brushed over it. “‘Cause you see now, my opinion has possible sway.” Lance smiled as he gave a wink for extra measure. 

 

Shiro raised his brow at that. It took a second but the meaning seeped in to him.“You mean over me?” 

 

Lance gave a gingerly nod. “Naturally.” 

 

“I may have to contest that.” 

 

“Well in my defense,” Lance gave a sly smile. “You fretted for ten minutes over me taking off a bandaid.” Lance took another drink, finding himself talking much easier with Shiro the more alcohol he consumed. “The removal of which, I might point out, just had you calling me very pretty.” He dropped a look at Shiro again. 

 

Shiro’s gaze was unreadable but he still had the slight smile. “I’ll give that to you, I’d say you’re a minor influential force on me.” 

 

“Minor?” Lance’s hand went to his chest in mock horror. “Darling, I’ve just gotten started.” 

 

A real full blown smile blossomed on Shiro’s face this time. He slid a hand over Lances arm possessively on his way to reaching for his drink again, taking a sip, before he changed the subject. 

 

“But you were still a Paladin before.” Shiro pointed out, setting his drink back down. “I can’t believe you were that ignored.” 

 

“Left leg,” Lance clarified. And he rolled his eyes. “I’m in the royal family it was obvious that I’d be a paladin. I mean all of us are—“ He stopped realizing he’d gabbed his way into more dangerous territory. 

 

When Lance stopped, Shiro glanced up at him. His brow was raised for just a moment. They both knew. Shiro had snatched what had meant to be Allura’s right out from under their noses. 

 

Lance stalled, unsure of how to make the situation dissipate. 

 

Shiro didn't say anything either, He stood a bit straighter though, a bit prouder. Maybe ready to defend his position. 

 

Neither of them said anything though. Which Lance noted was odd. Shiro it seemed was the continual peace maker. It was distressing that he wasn’t saying anything. Or maybe he wanted Lance to say something… Lance wasn’t sure what to say. Caught between his new mate and his sister. 

 

Abruptly, across the room, King Alfor stood. “Well, I will be retiring for the evening.”

 

Lance blinked, snatching at the opportunity. He slipped from Shiro’s metal arm, brushing his shoulder gently with his hand as he went. “Excuse me, I want to go bid my father good night before he leaves.” 

 

Shiro let him go easily enough. “Of course.” He murmured to Lance respectfully. 

 

Lance gave him one last lingering look before he slid through the crowd to his father. 

 

Thankfully he was met with a characteristic smile and a hug as Lance approached. 

 

As Lance tightened his arms around his father, despite the man’s imposing size Lance felt suddenly—how fragile he was. It was a strange feeling. He’d never thought of his father as anything but a monument of a man. 

 

He was starting to understand so desperately what this all meant, what it was all for and he—he was doing this for his family, was reaffirmed with every pound of blood through Lance’s veins. 

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until everyone else had left that Lance finally took a moment to himself. In their sitting room was a large mirror, set over a side table Lance paused as he passed to look at his new mark.

 

It felt like it was almost his new identity.

 

He wasn’t just Lance anymore. He was the _life bond mate_ of the Black Paladin. Maybe because it was a title that was formerly his fathers but the gravity of it felt so much more real than just Second Prince or Blue Paladin—Left Leg as he had joked that evening. 

 

He was connected to someone now. 

 

In his soft, loose night shirt, ready to crawl into another empty bed, He tipped his head up to look at the mark. 

 

It was different this time, looking at it all on his own, no chance of another person interrupting him. 

 

It looked different in the low light of the room. 

 

It as pearly in color, as had been thoroughly pointed out. The acolytes had made it clear that it was a very unique presentation, even for a royal family member. 

 

It spread across the place his gland used to be. It looked like a lion had clamped his mouth and tore the gland away, leaving the pearly scar in it's place. Lance knew that wasn’t the case. The glands was still there. He frowned at his reflection as he considered it. The relief that Shiro had shown a clear fondness for it was still settling in him. 

 

He could see Shiro slip in through the door from the mirror reflection, but it still startled Lance when the man looked his way. 

 

Shiro didn't look away either, closing the door behind him, he went straight to Lance standing at the mirror. 

 

Their eyes connected in the reflection as Shiro hovered just at the edges of Lance. He was closer than anyone else would have ever dared, but he wasn't touching Lance. 

 

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Shiro's voice was smooth, content. 

 

Lance smoothed his hand over the mark one more time, before he stood properly. "I'm not fragile." His nose wrinkled. 

 

Shiro's expression didn't change as he considered Lance still looking at him through the mirror. 

 

"You don’t need to keep treating me like I'm porcelain." Lance went on. "I've completely healed. I was never that incapacitated to begin with." 

 

Shiro moved a fraction closer, his breath now moving over Lance’s neck with every exhale. "I just thought you were tired, Lance." 

 

Lance stiffened at that. It was—usually Shiro didn't address him so—he’d never heard his name before from Shiro's lips like that. The casual ness was something reserved for Lance’s family alone. 

 

With the rush to his face, Lance looked down. "I didn't mean..." Lance trailed off. 

 

"It's alright," Shiro's voice for once grated into a gruffer tone. "I realize, you're getting tired of being treated like you're bed ridden." 

 

How in the world—? Lance let out a sigh as he peeked up at the mirror again, catching a glimpse of Shiro still standing so close to him.He was sure a surprisingly kind person. 

 

"I know it hadn't mostly come from you," Lance explained. 

 

Shiro gave a nod. "But I've contributed." It was a statement, one accompanied with a glance at Lance’s neck. "For which, I apologize. I'll try not to—be as over baring in the future." 

 

Lance creased his brow. It was just so odd. "You actually want this to work, don't you." Lance concluded. 

 

The stoic expression still didn't leave Shiro's face. 

 

After a moments pause, Lance looked away from the mirror. His thoughts were whirling again. Finding sleep would be nearly impossible. But if Shiro wanted to go to bed.... 

 

"Are you coming to bed?" 

 

Shiro shook his head. "Not yet." 

 

He turned away from Lance then, his hand brushed past Lance’s back as he continued back to the bedroom. 

 

He continued to speak as he went. "I came to check on you." When he reemerged, he was a pulling a cloak around his shoulders. "And to find something warmer." He fastened it tightly at his shoulder. If possible it made him look even more broad then before. "As you've stated, you're doing just fine, so seems my mission is complete.”

 

Lance pivoted, leaning back against the narrow table as he looked at his mate. "Are you going out?" 

 

The smile Shiro gave was genuine. "Not for any sort of fun." He stepped forward towards Lance. "I have some errands to run." 

 

"But it's so late," Lance didn't need to glance at the clock to know it was well past regular meeting hours. 

 

"I'll be back soon enough." Shiro spoke as he passed Lance on his way to the door. "Get some sleep," 

 

Lance huffed. "What did I just say?" He cocked a hand on his tipped hip as he smirked at Shiro. 

 

"Doesn't stop me from worrying." Shiro gave one last smile before he slipped out of the room and slid the door closed behind him. 

 

Lance huffed again, this time his brow dropping grumpily. He turned back to what was quickly becoming just his bed and scrambled to crawl over the covers to get to the head. 

 

* * *

 

He didn't mean to. But he couldn't help it. He was counting. 

 

It probably wasn't one of his classiest acts, but he couldn't help it. According to his calculations, they had been together over twoweeks. And here he was lying in their ginormous bed all alone. 

 

It was a very big bed, and despite Shiro's unusually large size, Lance was confident that it would fit the two of them just fine. And he should know! Because his bed before, the one that he had picked out andplastered in bright blue had been a big bed. He was a Prince after all, he was allowed to have a big bed. But this bed—it was way bigger! Lance could tell, cause he'd spent the first few days confided to it and now he was still even laying in it. 

 

He lay on the left side of the bed even, leaving plenty of space on the other side for Shiro to slip in, but he never did. 

 

Lance had thought, maybe he was waiting for him to get his strength back. Well that had happened in the first five days. Okay, well maybe Shiro was just giving him space, plenty of space. He guessed that could account for another few days. 

 

But what was the excuse now? 

 

They'd had the mark ceremony! Lance could still feel Shiro's fingers skirting across his neck. He'd definitely been attracted to Lance, he'd said as much. 

 

So why was Lance still lying in bed all alone? 

 

He glanced at the clock next to the bed, their GINORMOUS bed! 

 

It was now close to an hour since Lance had heard the quiet click of Shiro slipping back through this their door. That was long enough, right? 

 

Lance swallowed. He knew what he wanted to do-- 

 

Well, he was never going to get anywhere just thinking about it. He pulled the covers off and slide to the edge of the bed. His bare feet touched down on their hardwood floor soundlessly before Lance stood. 

 

His foot pats on the floor were as quiet as he could make them as he snuck out to the sitting room. 

 

He stopped at the doorway. 

 

He'd managed to find Shiro. 

 

Lance scrunched his nose. He highly doubted such a small couch was comfortable for someone of Shiro's size. 

 

He seemed asleep though. ...in his boots. Lance sneered at that. Shiro was still dressed all the way down to his boots. And tucked under his head was one of those stodgy, stiff cushion roll things. Lance would have to inform Shiro at an opportune time, those things were for decoration. It had to all be so horrible uncomfortable. 

 

And what a waste! With in fifteen steps was half a dozen feather down pillows and the biggest, possibly softest bed Lance had ever sunken into. 

 

Making up his mind, Lance marched back into the bedroom. He pulled one of those down pillows from the bed, testing it for the right amount of— _cushiness_. 

 

Then tucking it under his arm, Lance marched back into their sitting room. Circling around the couch, Lance paused, just in case Shiro had woken. After making sure he was still in dreamland, Lance pulled out the pillow—

 

And hurled it at Shiro's head. 

 

The Black Paladin woke with a whoosh of breath as the pillow, 'booffed!' across his face. Scrambling up, he ripped the pillow away fiercely, his eyes circled the room, his metal hand already out and held oddly, not like he was reaching for a weapon so much as it was one... 

 

"Lance?" Shiro's voice was all gravely from sleep still. He blinked several times in the low light at Lance. “What—?" 

 

Lance set his jaw and pointed at Shiro with an accusatory finger. "You lied to me." 

 

Still trying to catch his breath, Shiro was actually taken back at that. "Huh?" He looked surprisingly still sleepy and groggy. 

 

"You said you'd be back!" 

 

Shiro looked around the room. "I am." 

 

"This," Lance gestured around him. "Is not back to _me_." He pointed to himself. 

 

There was a beat of silence. 

 

"This is our bedroom." Shiro pointed out. He even lifted the pillow for emphasis. 

 

"No." Lance said crossing his arms. He jabbed a finger at the massive bed, "that is our bedroom." Another gesture of his hand. "This is our sitting room. Where we sit, and entertain, and have lovely conversations about the weather and take tea time, and possibly have arguments when one mate lies to the other mate." 

 

"I came back." Shiro very firmly tried to defend himself. 

 

"Noooo!" Lance had none of it. "You came to our sitting room, I was not in our sitting room, I have been in our bedroom. Where you haven't been." Lance glared down at Shiro. 

 

It seemed he was at a loss for words for several seconds. Blinking again, his mind clearly processingbefore he tried again. 

 

"Right." Shiro started. "I'm sorry." 

 

"And?" Lance pressed. 

 

"And I—“ Shiro watched Lance carefully. He shook his head just slightly, clearly not catching on. 

 

Lance snatched the pillow back up and booffed it back over Shiro's head again. "And you're coming to bed." 

 

Lance tucked the pillow back under his arm before he was at the foot of the couch. He grabbed at one of Shiro's boots and with a lot more effort then he anticipated he’d need, he mangled to drop the boot on the floor a second later. The second black leather boot came off a moment later and Lance was glaring at Shiro the whole way up off the couch. 

 

"Alright, alright" Shiro held up his hands in surrender. "I'm coming to bed." He trudged in through the door way, and once there he did actually start to remove his uniform. 

 

Satisfied, Lance turned around, pulling their bedroom’s rolling door closed. But more over, it wasan opportunity to hide the deliciously smug smile gracing his lips. 

 

* * *

 

There was nothing about it that took Lance by surprise. 

 

But there was a lot of small things that he found fascinating information. Shiro had pulled on soft sleep pants, but no shirt. As he'd laid down in bed, he'd bid Lance a gracious, "good night." Lance could practically hear the relief in his voice, as Shiro had relaxed back into the bed, his head on a real pillow. 

 

Lance imagined it was probably a lot like resting back into a cloud, especially if Shiro had been using that tiny love-seat as his bed this whole time. 

 

In a way, Lance could see how it was sweet. Shiro hadn't wanted to invade in his young prince’s space. Then Lance thought about that roll throw pillow Shiro had uncomfortably crammed under his head and concluded Shiro—had been stupid. 

 

It was almost instantaneous that Shiro slipped back into sleep, his breath evening and his chest rising and falling in a rhythm Lance very much wanted to memorize. 

 

He slept on his back. 

 

That was good for Lance who slept on his side, and at this moment was unabashedly ogling over his Black Paladin. 

 

A smile slipped onto his face as Lance cuddled into his pillow, pulling the covers up to his chin. He was maybe six inches from Shiro. It was a comfortable distance though. 

 

Lance huddled just a bit closer, closing the gap between them an inch or two more. He wouldn't be him after all unless he pushed the limits. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come scheme with me: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) [Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/)


	3. III

The morning was sunny and bright and so effortlessly beautiful, the elk under Lance was a beautiful crisp white and pranced as it carried him down the gravel trail. He was in the Paladins precession. His elk adorned was in brilliant blues. Next to him on a more bulky chestnut Elk was Hunk. 

 

They were seated after green and red, and far behind at the front of the precession, on a tall, thickly muscled black elk, Shiro sat straight backed and regally, leading the spring day precession from the temples and down through the meadows where the real fun would take place. 

 

Already Lance had sat through the grueling ritual at the temple waiting for this moment. Up ahead his father and Sister and the whole host of courtiers would already be in mid celebration. And with the arrival of the Paladins—the games would finally begin! Every thing from foot races to sword matches would take place and Lance was so excited he stood up in his stirrups to see if he could see the picnic tents yet. 

 

"Dude," Hunk next to him huffed. "We are like, still a mile away." 

 

Lance smirked. “Well, maybe I have super duper good vision!" 

 

He didn't, he couldn't see a thing up ahead. He still stretched in his saddle again just to prove his stubbornness. 

 

"Right, or you're just ogling Shiro again." Hunk sighed. 

 

Lance gasped. "I do not openly ogle Shiro!" In their bedroom on the other hand... But well that was Lance’s now Goddess given right! 

 

Hunk smiled at that and cleanly combated. "Yeah, you do!" 

 

Lance gave a grand gesture as he swept his gaze pointedly forward. "Oh Hunk, my dear unfortunate unmated friend! You just don't understand what it's like to have a perfect mate!" 

 

Hunk snorted rather audibly. “Yeah, keep the grossness down a touch, won't ya!" 

 

"I am trying to lecture you," Lance was already starting to laugh though. 

 

Hunk was still smiling away as he adjusted in his saddle. “Yeah, I'm still not convinced.”

 

"I'm in mated bliss!" Lance persisted. 

 

"Yesterday you also came to me complaining that Shiro doesn't even talk to you all that much. And that he wears his boots around your bedroom all the time. ”

 

Lance did have to concede to that. "We're still in the get to know you stage." He paused. “And what sort of heathen has their boots on inside your bedroom! He’s gonna get it all dirty!”

 

The elk they rode, like everything, were purely ceremonial. It was what the Paladins of old had rode into battle on! Though by now, that was literally THOUSANDS of years ago. Lance still leaned forward and scratched behind his white elk’s ear. It was the softest, sweetest thing! He almost considered asking Shiro if he could bring his home... 

 

"Lance," Hunk said, though this time his voice was a lot more hushed. They had fallen a bit behind and were mostly all alone at that point. Their elks walking at a slower pace than the others. It was the first time in a very long time Lance had just been with his best friend. "I'm sure you're aware of this, but I don't think there should be a ' still getting to know them' stage for a life-bond mate." 

 

Lance didn't look away from his elk. He wasn't exactly surprised. Hunk was always the voice of sanity, the wise best friend with the usually cautious, but apt advice. 

 

“Life bond mates—should be a slow decision.” Hunk said in an equally sure and yet unsure tone. “You know not like an, ‘oh I just met him a few days ago’ kind of thing. It’s something you should decide together to go through with, and have thought about—like a lot!” 

 

Lance didn’t say anything. Hunk wouldn’t understand. He was plucked from his family and friends and a small city he’d grown up in when Yellow chose him. He hadn’t lived the life Lance had behind the palace gates. 

 

“Hey, are we going to talk about it now?" Hunk pressed. He leaned in on his saddle a bit closer to Lance. 

 

Lance finally looked up to see his friend looking at him very intently. The small yellow Altean markings under Hunks eyes were drooped even as he looked at Lance with concern. 

 

"You know I couldn't have said no," Lance dropped his voice another few notches. He pulled on a smile too though as he launched back into bragging. "Besides, you've seen Shiro, it's not like I was getting a horrible bargain." 

 

Hunks expression didn’t waver. “What happened—you can see it wasn’t right, can’t you?” He pursed his lips. “Life-bonds aren’t supposed to be out in the open like that. It’s supposed to you know—happen while your intimate. You screamed, Lance! That is not what a life-bonding is supposed to be like at all!” 

 

Lance tried not to falter in his expression. “We’ve always done things like this. I know you wouldn’t understand but it has to be done like this. It has to be clear there’s a connection.” 

 

“That is what a mark is for!” Hunk huffed. He shook his head sadly the next second. “There’s no reason you had to go through that much pain. It’s supposed to be a bond formed slowly over time that’s just cemented with the final bonding.” 

 

No, that’s not what had happened to Lance. It was fast, and burned hot. Like Lightening searing through him, Lance shivered as he remembered. 

 

Hunk sighed. "You never even really talked to him before now. Yeah, he was a captain in the royal star forces, but you never met him. He was chosen to be the Black Paladin less than a week before your bonding was announced!” 

 

Yeah. Lance had mentioned that in his own defense as well. He gave a shrug. "He's kind of a quiet guy anyway." 

 

This time a sneer was met from Hunk. "I'm not so sure quiet is a good fit for you." He shook his head now more vehemently. "This stinks, Lance. He’s—he's so serious all the time!That's not you." 

 

Lance looked away. 

 

Hunks voiced tipped to a whisper, just barely audible. "And he's a freaking Alpha! You've never been attracted to Alpha's! You were chasing Omega skirts since you were twelve!" 

 

This time Lance couldn't mange a smile as he looked up at his friend. The reins in his hands were held a bit tighter. 

 

"What do you want me to say?" Lance asked, his own voice still hushed. 

 

Hunk seemed a bit taken back by that and he gave a deep frown. 

 

"You know why I did it." Lance murmured. 

 

"Because Allura told you to." Hunk filled in. "Yeah, the whole palace knows about that. They all talk about it you know. Red up there,” Hunk tipped his chin to Iso the red paladin up ahead of them, “actually had the balls to say you wouldn't go through with it." 

 

Lance just looked down at the reins in his hands. He wasn't popular in the castle. He was very well aware of the fact. He wasn't charismatic or beautiful. He wasn’t regal or always pristine. His hair was the dark deep brown of his mothers, not the shimmering starlit silver of the rest of his families. He goofed things up too much and he managed to cause trouble too much. 

 

It just stung a little more coming from his best friend. 

 

"You know, I had to." Lance mumbled. 

 

Hunk was frowning so deep his lip was trembling. “ _She_  gave you away Lance!" 

 

Peeking up, Lance knew he was frowning too. "She's my sister." 

 

"And she bargained you," Hunk hissed. "For a few measly brownie points to consolidate her claim." 

 

"It had to be done." 

 

"Did it?" Hunk asked, this time looking Lance straight in the eye. 

 

Lance pulled on the reins of his elk, slowing her down. Hunk had done the same. Up ahead the party was already reaching the grand picnic tents. Their elks both meandered their way in a turtle slow pace through the trees. 

 

"Yes," Lance said firmly. "It did." He spared a glance ahead.

 

Shiro had kicked his elk into a run, instead of slowing her like Hunk and Lance. He was galloping into the camp, and was met with cheers and exclamations as he pulled the animal to a skidded halt. He was smiling as he dismounted. There were already people waiting for him. 

 

"Allura has to be on the throne." Lance affirmed. 

 

"Who said she won't be?" Hunk had his hands up in the air in an exasperated shrug. "Who fucking thinks that she isn't going to end up Queen? She is the proclaimed heir! She has the blood line! There isn’t any reason to challenge her.” 

 

"But she doesn't have a Paladin seat!" Lance hissed back. 

 

Hunk gave him a look. "Your sister is acting paranoid." 

 

"I sincerely fucking hope so!" Lance snarled back. 

 

Hunk was quieted with that. 

 

Lance gave a sigh as he looked up ahead. Their elks had entirely stopped at this point and they were getting some lookers from the picnic tents. 

 

"I just want you to be a bit angry with it," Hunk explained in a much kinder tone. "It's really obvious sometimes when you're so horribly faking it." 

 

Lance looked down at the reins again. "I'm trying not to fake it." He said in a steady voice. “I'm trying to be okay with it. I don't exactly have any other options right now." 

 

With that, he dug his heels into his elk and guided her into a gallop down into the meadows and to the picnic tents. Lance heard Hunk call after him, but he dint stop till a footman was reaching for the reins of his elk. 

 

Lance slid off in a smooth motion and in a brisk walk headed straight to the nearest private tent. 

 

He didn't make it as a cold metallic hand caught his arm. Lance tried to fling the intruder away before he looked up, realizing what he'd done. 

 

"Hey," Shiro said. His eyes moved between Lance and across the way to Hunk, before shifting back to settle on Lance. "What was that about?" 

 

Lance tried to calm his raging nerves. This all would have been so much easier if Shiro wasn't so damn caring! 

 

"Nothing," Lance huffed. "Please release me," Lance tried to pull out of his grip again. 

 

Shiro's brow lowered and his metal hand held firm. 

 

They were already getting a couple of glances and Lance heard a whisper. He could only imagine the talk now, 'that fuck up for a prince already was managing to pull Perfect Shiro into his puddle of trouble!' 

 

"I'll deal with it," Lance insisted. "Now please just let me go." 

 

Shiro didn't say anything for a moment before he shook his head. "No." 

 

A second later he was pulling Lance into one of the tents. 

 

"Leave," Shiro said calmly to the few servants gathered in the storage tent. 

 

They all quickly nodded and gathered up their small betting game before fleeing out the door. Once they were gone, Shiro let Lance go. Lance pulled himself in, shooting a few feet from Shiro. 

 

"Now, what was that about?" Shiro asked again. 

 

His voice was so fucking calm it pissed Lance off even more. "I told you it was nothing." 

 

"And you lied to me," Shiro established. "And I thought we went over that a few nights ago, we don't lie to each other." 

 

Lance huffedand sat on one of the metal storage containers. "Can't you just leave me alone?" He wondered out load. His hands rubbed over his face before he gestured to the door. "You really should be out there, they're probably already talking out there!" 

 

"Talking?" Shiro's expression shifted to confused, "Lance, I'm trying to talk to you right now." 

 

"Fine!" Lance figured giving in would get him out of this fastest. "I just had an argument with Hunk, okay?" He stood again. "He said some things and I said some things and I would really just like to cool down." 

 

Shiro stepped closer. He looked absolutely striking in his regal black attire. It was nearly startling to just be in the same space as him. 

 

"What was said?" Shiro asked, his face twisting with concern as he offered his hands out to Lance, Like he was going to embrace him or he was just trying to be so insufferable sincere again and just be there for Lance. 

 

"You don't want to know." Lance said firmly, 

 

Shaking his head, Shiro seemed to finally start getting agitated with Lance. "That doesn't make any sense. What were you guys arguing about?" 

 

Lance considered staying quiet, but he was reaching his limit. So with a drawn brow he glared up at Shiro. "You." 

 

That took Shiro back. 

 

"We argued over you." 

 

It was quiet for a heartbeat and Lance seized the moment, stalking past Shiro. 

 

A hand struck out to try and stop him again, but this time Lance managed to dance out of its way as he flung the tent flap up and hurriedly exited. 

 

* * *

 

It took too long for Lance to cool his jets. But by lunch, he was trudging back through the trees to the tents. 

 

He'd wanted to go find Blue, that was his usual tactic when he was upset, but they were miles from the palace, so Lance had settled near a stream and let his mind race through his tissy before finally calming. 

 

As he tried to sneak in under the main tent, it was evident the meal was already well underway. Lance glanced around for a free spot, hoping there was one close to Hunk. He owed him an apology anyhow, he might as well give it to him while Hunk was in his natural habitat: half way through a plate of food. 

 

“Prince Lance," the strong baritone shot through Lance, as always, like an arrow. 

 

Hesitant, Lance looked up to see Shiro coaxing him forward with a flick of his fingers. There was an open seat next to Shiro and it was evident he'd saved it for Lance specifically. 

 

Like a dog with a tail between his legs, Lance trudged over, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He didn't miss the look from Allura though on his way to the end of the table. The message was clear, it wasn't exactly princely to lose an argument, and it was even less so to run off to go sulk about it after wards. Lance reasoned it was probably just better if he looked at the ground for the rest of the evening. 

 

"Darling," Shiro's tone had no hint of mocking as Lance sat down. 

 

Looking up a bit startled, he was caught further off guard as Shiro tipped his chin, caressing a finger across the bond mark. 

 

The affect was almost instant. The world melted away into nothing but dark grey eyes and a white fore lock of hair... It tingled through Lance’s veins still so surprising it was nearly unpleasant. 

 

"Are you feeling better?" Shiro asked in a hushed tone. 

 

Lance swallowed, licking his lips, before he gave a nod.

 

Shiro glided two fingers over the mark again before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lance’s temple. "Good," he whispered into Lance's hair. “we can talk about it later, yeah?”

 

Lance just nodded again, too filled with butterflies to do anything else. 

 

With a smile, Shiro withdrew and turned back to keep speaking with the rest of the table. But he was already passing a plate to Lance. It was with clear intent that he expected Lance to eat. 

 

* * *

 

Lance was finding all sorts of things out about Shiro. Like he liked his liquor hard. He couldn't care less about the soft and smooth flutes servants placed before Lance. It was always dark ambers and deep umbers in heavy bottomed glasses that were slide to Shiro’s hand.

 

He enjoyed his drinks as well, not gulping it down like some of the others. He’d had maybe a third of the alcohol than most of the barons and noble men, in about the same span of time. 

 

It quickly became apparent as well he preferred the company of A. other soldiers and B. Lance.

 

At first Lance had thought it was probably easier if he snuck off to be with his—one friend, but Shiro hand’t allowed it. He was constantly looking at Lance, or pulling his arm around him. He would turn to Lance and ask him if he’d tried something at the table or if he knew who someone was. 

 

He was—surprisingly inclusive. And the old generals and current and former soldiers of the court all by now mingled and meandered their way to Shiro’s corner of the table were even smiling at Lance, looking at him in a way he’d never experienced before. 

 

And it was all culminating in the most surprising but largest bit of info about the Black Paladin. 

 

Shiro was ferociously competitive. 

 

The real physical matches had yet to begin and Shiro was already started into the fun. He’d had Lance even list out all the competitions for him. When Lance had inquired which Shiro was think about, he’d only been granted a smile in return. 

 

“Oh, the foot races are starting!” Lance heard a woman from his left exclaim. 

 

“I’m gonna go,” Lance cooed to Shiro, half way through another betting game. He was winning. In fact, it was becoming very clear, Shiro didn’t play unless he intended to win. 

 

Shiro folded his cards as he creased his brow and looked at Lance. “You told me the foot races were for the kids.” 

 

Lance nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that’s the really fun part.” 

 

A smile broke on Shiro’s face and he laughed. “Should I bet on you?” 

 

Lance shook his head. “Not unless you have money you need to get rid of.” 

 

It was a full blown laugh Lance got this time. 

 

With a smile, Lance took that as a blessing and slithered out from under Shiro’s arm. 

 

“Prince Lance!” A little girl squeed as Lance approached the group of tiny girls all waiting for the foot race to start. 

 

“Hello Alena!” ‘Prince’ Lance beamed as he went to one knee before the girls. 

 

He was never popular. He was a lousy diplomat and an even worse leader. He was a good fighter, but not exactly notable. But there was one thing Lance would always be—a prince. And to a seven year old daughter of a nobleman he was the shit! 

 

And Lance always ate every little bit of it up! 

 

“Are you going to run with us, Prince Lance?” A younger one, maybe 5 asked, if Lance remembered right her name was Leila. …it was very populate after Allura’s birth to have a name ending in ‘a’s. She had bright blue eyes and cherry red hair. Her teal little cheek stripes were absolutely adorable peaking out from her red hair. 

 

“Absolutely!” Lance answered. 

 

“But we were just talking,” Alena started in, she had the most curly platinum blonde hair Lance had ever seen. “And we think that who ever wins, should get to marry you.” 

 

“Nah uh!” That was Alena’s older sister, Corena. “I told you Prince Lance is already married!” She looked at Lance. “And it’s rude to try and marry a person thats already married!” 

 

Lance could barely contain his smile. “That is a good point, Corena!” 

 

“But you said last year that you would marry me,” Leila pouted as she pressed in closer to Lance. 

 

A bit flustered that A. she had remembered that, and B. that it was a promise he very much could not keep. Lance was unsure what to say. 

 

“Who did you marry instead?” Leila tipped her head at him. 

 

“Now don’t be mad at me,” Lance said as he cupped Leila’s little hand. She had a creamy freckled skin tone. Lance smiled as he thought of all the attention she would get in the future. He doubted she would want for any type of marriage. “But you see someone asked me to marry him, and I just couldn’t say no.” 

 

“Who?” Alena this time was asking. 

 

Lance smiled. He hadn’t really had the chance to brag to anyone about this so far. Everyone he knew had been at the bonding ceremony after all! But a seven year old was one he could tell giddily. 

 

“Well you remember the Black Paladin?” 

 

Leila got very excited, clapping her hands together. “You mean the new one! The one with on the big Black Elk!” 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

Corena had her hands up to her face. “Oh, Prince Lance he asked you to marry him?” 

 

Well not exactly! Lance just smiled though and nodded. “And I’m afraid my little Ladies that I did marry him.” 

 

“Can we meet him?” A quiet one, Mila asked, her mousey fine hair and dark complexion peaked at Lance as she finally edged closer. 

 

Lance gave a look. “Well, I don’t know,” He drawled. “Maybe though, if you girls can win against me.” 

 

“We’ll win.” Corena concluded. She was the oldest though and clearly knew the formula by now for these things. 

 

Lance could talk a good talk, but every time he’d let the little girls win. 

 

The thought occurred so suddenly just how different that was from Shiro at that moment. Lance had no doubt once the major competition got going Shiro would be competing and he would more than likely be wining. Lance always competed in Archer on Elk stride, but never any thing more. He guessed he could try hand to hand or swordsmanship but there was plenty others better than him for those two. The archery was the one thing he was very good at and he didn’t get to do it very often so the opportunity was pleasant for him. 

 

Maybe Hunk was right, Lance looked down at the sweet girls all around him. He was so very different from Shiro. He enjoyed letting a group of girls win against him in a foot race. It was just—he enjoyed it. The giggles and the flower crowns and the soft little hands and bright colored little dress swishing around as they ran circles around him. 

 

“Alright,” Lance said bringing himself out of his small revelry. “Lets go see if you get to meet my Paladin then,” 

 

The girls all squeed and Leila and Mila both clutched at either of Lance hands, leading him to the starting line. 

 

* * *

 

He maybe wouldn’t have come in last place for once—except then Mila had tripped on her pretty little yellow dress and Lance had stopped, helping her back up and urged her back into a run. 

 

As he crossed the brightly flowered and ribbon adorned finish line he conceded to his inevitable loss. 

 

“It seems I am just no match for all of you!” Lance exclaimed as he was hoarded by little girls again. He found himself pitched to the ground and presented with a white and blue flower crown. 

 

“We won!” Alena exclaimed as she clamored into his lap. 

 

“You all have beaten me!” Lance conceded with an exasperated sigh. “I was just so enamored with your beauty, I couldn’t concentrate on the race!” 

 

The girls all giggled and Leila was already wiggling next to him with anticipation. 

 

“Can we meet him? Can we meet him?” She chanted next to him, she was tugging on his sleeve. 

 

“We have an extra flower crown too!” Corena exclaimed as she held up the dark blue flower crown. “It was supposed to be for Winny, but she couldn’t come today.” 

 

“Oh,” Lance said as he tried to think how to react. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure Shiro wouldn’t be so willing to be pulled around by tiny women while sporting a flower crown on his head.

 

“I wanna meet him too,” Mila said as she blinked her big long lash framed eyes at Lance. 

 

Lance of course gave in, He knew he would after all. 

 

“Well alright,” He scooped Mila up into his arms as he stood. “But you all have to promise you’ll behave.” he eyed all the girls. 

 

“We promise!” Leila shook her head vehemently. Her bright red hair bobbed cutely with the action. 

 

“Okay, you guys have to be my sweet little ladies,” Lance pressed. “Shiro hasn’t met you all before and I want him to have the best of impressions of you all.” 

 

“Okay! Okay!” Alena joined into Leila’s emphatic nodding. 

 

“Alright,” Lance held his free hand out for a little lady to take as he started back towards the tents. “Let’s go meet him.” 

 

* * *

 

Shiro was in armor as Lance approached. And he was still fitting some of it on. No doubt he was headed off to some of the actual competitions. 

 

“Lance, hey, there’s someone I want you to meet—“ Shiro stopped as he got a good look at Lance. “Hello,” His voice had just a small tick of unease to it. 

 

Lance smiled and stepped closer. “Shiro,” He gave as good of a bow as he could manage while still holding Mila in his arms and holding Alena’s hand. He also gestured to the herd of girls he’d brought with him as best he could. “These Ladies said they would very much like to meet you,” 

 

Shiro looked frozen for just a moment before he turned to them. “Oh.” He breathed. 

 

Lance helped him out quickly going on. “You see it must have slipped my mind but I promised a couple of these lovelies that I would marry them one day and well—I’m sure you know but I somehow managed to marry you instead.” 

 

“A mix up indeed,” A smile slid onto Shiro’s face. 

 

Lance smiled in return. 

 

“What are your names?” Shiro asked as he very gallantly went to one knee before the girls. 

 

It was quiet among the girls for just a beat and Lance wondered if he’d managed to overload their tiny capacities for new things already. 

 

“I’m Corena,” The eldest and tallest stepped forward and very princessly offered out her hand to Shiro. 

 

With another smile, Shiro took the hand and gave it a small peck. “It is a pleasure to meet you my lady Corena.” 

 

In another moment, Alena was pushing her sister out of the way as she exclaimed, “I’m Alena, Corena’s younger sister.” She practically pushed her hand into Shiro’s. 

 

“What a lovely name,” Shiro said as he gave it a peck as well. 

 

Lance urged Leila up next and she giggled an exceptional amount as she gave a small bow to Shiro. 

 

“I’m Leila,” 

 

Shiro looked so terribly amused as he pecked her hand. “You look exceptionally lovely today, Leila.” 

 

“Thank you,” She giggled even more. 

 

Shiro stood as he noticed the last of them all. 

 

Mila had burrowed in against Lance, bashful as she curled in under his chin. 

 

“And who is this very pretty girl?” Shiro asked. 

 

Too embarrassed it seemed to answer she just very hesitantly held out her hand. 

 

Shiro gently took it, tipping his head to give it a peck. “Its very nice to meet you.” 

 

Mila blinked again bashfully and hid her face in against Lance’s shoulder. 

 

Giving a chuckle, Lance filled in for her. “This is Mila.” 

 

Shiro nodded before looking down at the rest of the girls. “Well, Ladies, I am sorry that I have stolen Lance aways from you all.” He gave a sigh. ”But you see I very much adore Lance and selfishly wanted him for my own.”

 

Lance almost blushed more then the girls at that moment, puffing up just a bit at the praise Shiro showered him with. He spent a bit more brain power than was probably reasonable thinking about wether it was a true statement or not. Was he just saying that for the girls? He wouldn’t lie to them right? It was a group of girls it’s not like lying to them would change much! 

 

“It’s alright,” Leila patted Shiro’s hand in a way that was reminiscent of someone much older. “We understand.” 

 

“We forgive you,” Cornea proclaimed. “In fact, we even made you this,” She held up the deep violet and blue flower crown. 

 

That stumbled Shiro up again as he looked down at it. 

 

“It goes on your head.” Lance pointed to his own. 

 

“Right,” Shiro broke into another smile. He slid back down to one knee again, “If you would do the honors, my lady.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure I would know how to put it on myself.” 

 

Corena stepped forward, no doubt still emulating the Princess as best she knew how. “Of course, Black Paladin!” 

 

She placed the flower crown there, fitting it perfectly on Shiro’s head. 

 

“There,” 

 

Shiro straightened and looked to Lance. “How does it look?” 

 

Lance gave a sly smile. “If I wasn’t already married to you, I’d ask if we could get married again.” 

 

Shiro let out a chuckle at that for which the girls all joined in with melodic giggles. 

 

“Lance!” 

 

Lance looked up to see his sister was making her way then in a brisk walk. She was in armor as well. It wasn’t surprising, Allura enjoyed the competitions very much and it was really good for public relations. 

 

“The archery matches are about to start, why aren’t you ready?” 

 

Allura approached just in time for Alena to excitedly exclaim, “Princess!” 

 

“Oh hello, my dears!” Allura gave a dazzling smile. “You all look so wonderful in your Spring Festival dresses!” 

 

“Lance just introduced us to Shiro!” Liela told her. 

 

“He’s quite dashing, isn’t he!” Allura said as she flashed a look up to Lance. 

 

“He kissed my hand!” Alena proclaimed holding her hand out. 

 

“He kissed all of our hands!” Corena broke in. It inevitably started a bickering from the two sisters. 

 

Lance could only smile up at Shiro. It had gone surprisingly quite well. 

 

“Alright, Ladies!” Allura said as she started to usher the little gaggle away, she even stepped up to Lance slipping Mila out of his arms, and onto her feet. “Prince Lance is running late for a very important match!” 

 

It was the only match he ever won. It was good for the family and the only thing Allura had to brag about her brother. It was very important to his sister that the royal family came out of the competitions with as many wins as possible. 

 

When their father had been competing it was always a laughable concept that the Royal family wouldn’t come aways with the most match medals! But with the decline of Alfor it had become more of a struggle. Allura was hell bent on cementing herself in Alfor’s place and this was one avenue of doing it. 

 

Lance did take a bit of pride from the knowledge but still reluctantly watched the little girls all leave. “Good bye Ladies!” he said as he waved. 

 

“We’ll cheer for you, Lance!” Little Mila said as she was pulled away by Leila. 

 

“I will be so very honored!” Lance exclaimed. 

 

When he straightened and looked back to Shiro standing next to him, he just smiled. 

 

“What?” Shiro asked, suddenly concerned with the look he received. 

 

“You were ridiculously adorable with them.” Lance proclaimed. 

 

A smile worked it’s way on Shiro’s face as well then. 

 

And back popped Allura. This time she pushed at her brother in the direction of the royal family tents. “You have to go,” she said exasperated. 

 

Just then, another approached from behind Shiro. He only came up to Shiro’s shoulder and approached as if he knew Shiro very well. Wearing light armor, he was a rather compact person, dark eyes staring moodily out of the dark fringe that framed his face. 

 

“What the hell is on your head?” The stranger asked as he crossed his arms. 

 

Lance didn’t know the guy that had just stepped up to Shiro, but he considered asking the same question. That hair style was beyond reproachable. Yeeshhhh! 

 

“A flower crown.” Shiro admitted with a chuckle and a grin. 

 

The guy wasn’t Altean, but Lance couldn’t place his race. He was possibly mixed. He glowered grouchily still at Shiro, clearly not enjoying the irony of the situation. 

 

“Lance, come on,” Allura said in a manor Lance knew not to ignore. “You have got to get ready!”

 

“On it!” Lance said as he was crowded by a few servants this time. 

 

“I’ll find you later!” Shiro said as he cast a look at him. He was still smiling so easily.

 

Lance nodded and finally let his sister push him off to get ready. 

 

* * *

 

Lance didn’t compete in any of the normal Archery competitions. He’d grown out of that at about twelve. It was easy when he had master marksmen training him since he was four. 

 

No, Lance completed in the Archery Course. It was an obstacle course, of sorts. The competitor rode atop an elk and was give their choice of a bow and a full quiver of arrows. The course had twelve marked targets. The competitor had fourteen arrows. As one continued through out the course the goal was to get as close to the center of each target as possible while still going the fastest. The person who hit each target the fastest typically won, though the final medal usually took a few minutes of score compiling since bulls eyes counted for extra points. 

 

In the last three year, Lance had hit every bullseye on ever target, handing him the win every time without contest. 

 

He was strapped into the light breathable armor as he pulled himself up onto his white elk. She shuffled a bit in place, her antlers overhead creaking just a bit with the moment as the others all mounted as well. 

 

Lance’s bow was a beautiful white subtly curved long bow, it was delicately adorned in Lance’s signature royal blue and gold. It had been a gift from his father though it had felt at the time more like a rite of passage. 

 

Lance guided his pretty white girl to the starting line, before sliding on his helmet. Everyone wore helmets, it was for safety and to some extent not to get caught up in recognizing an opponent. 

 

She knew the way. Technically all the elk did. But most were trained to take guided cues as well. 

 

Lance notched an arrow. Last year the first mark had been with in twenty feet of the starting line and he wasn’t going to be taken by surprise this year again. 

 

On either side, elks pawed into the dirt and breathed audibly as they all waited for the starting mark. 

 

Lance leaned just a bit more over the utilitarian saddle. It was made to be as light as possible so the elk wasn’t carrying extra weight. 

 

Suddenly the starting light flashed and there was a whistle. 

 

Lance held into his elk and they were off in a flash, as she rounded the first corner Lance spotted the first mark with a smile. He’d been right. He raised the bow, pulled the string back and let the first one fly. 

 

As his elk cleared over the first obstacle though, suddenly it had to veer off to the right as from the side a grey elk jumped in, pushing Lance to the side. It’s black clad rider was someone Lance didn’t recognize. His own bow was short and a red lined black and he raised it so close to Lance’s head Lance could feel the ‘thummm' vibrating in his ear. Luckily he’d already release for the second mark just as the interruptors arrow flew past his head. 

 

Lance gritted his teeth and dug his heels into his elks sides. Like hell was he going to let who ever that guy was steal Lance’s victory! 

 

* * *

 

Lance was breathing so hard he felt like his lungs were constricting by the time his elk halted to a stop. She was dragging in breath just as fiercely, her cheat heaving so hard Lance could feel it under him. 

 

Next to him, coming in first by just a foot or so was the grey elk with its black and red clad rider. 

 

Lance looked up, the scores were being calculated and the winner was to be announced any moment now. 

 

Swinging down from his mount, Lance ripped off his sweaty helmet as he watched up at the judges. suddenly a holograph flashed up and fist place—

 

“Fuck,” Lance said before he even realized his mouth was open. 

 

At the flash of scores, the guy raised his hands, pulling off the helmet—so an inky black mess of hair could fall out. 

 

He knew that guy. It was Mullet head. Now that they were flashing his face next to his 1st place status it was obvious. Lance had met him just moments before the match with Shiro. 

 

“Lance!” 

 

Lance froze. He did not want in any way to answer his sister. He could already hear the cooling tremors of icy cold agitation in her voice. 

 

If there was ever an Ice Queen her name was probably Allura. 

 

And he’d just lost a match that was almost always basically promised to Lance. 

 

With an extra long exhale to calm his nerves, Lance turned, just in time to be engulfed in an arm full of Shiro. 

 

“You did so great,” Shiro actually sounded genuine as he embraced Lance to him. His hand tangled in Lance’s hair, holding him to his chest, which at he moment was covered in armor so it wasn’t as pleasant as Lance had hoped.

 

When Lance was finally allowed to breathe again, and Shiro had stepped back he was smiling down at Lance, his hand pet through Lance’s hair like he was the proudest person possible of Lance and even pressed in a kiss to Lance’s sweaty forehead. 

 

“I lost,” Lance panted. 

 

Shiro cocked a brow. “You came in second, by a tenth of a tick.” Shiro broke into a chuckling smile. “Against Keith.” 

 

When Shiro leaned in this time, he tipped Lance’s head forward to press another kiss to his head. “Trust me you did amazing!” He murmured. 

 

And at that moment, Lance probably should have been thinking about the way Shiro was being so affectionate towards him, in public even, but instead all he could think was, “Who’s Keith?” 

 

“Oh,” Shiro breathed at that and had Lance at arms length suddenly. “Right, I’m so sorry,” He was still smiling. “I got caught up, but” He glanced over his shoulder. “I want you to meet someone.” 

 

Shiro was smiling just so perfectly Lance knew there was no way he could say no. 

 

He was tugged through the now thralls of people to meet—Keith. 

 

He peered at Lance like he had no business standing that close next to Shiro. 

 

But Shiro had his hand at the small of Lance’s back as he gestured to Keith. “This is Keith Kogane. He’s a very close friend of mine, and he’s just got back from space.” 

 

Shiro just looked so proud as he looked between Lance then Keith. 

 

“So this is your mate,” Keith whistled as he eyed Lance up and down. 

 

It irked Lance way too much the wrong way as he saw Keith looking at him like that. Lance couldn’t stop himself from crossing his arms. He bit his lip though, trying to keep quiet. This was someone close to Shiro, and Shiro was Lance’s mate and Lance was not gonna fuck this up! 

 

“He’s pretty scrawny.” Keith said as he looked up at Shiro. 

 

Shiro just laughed. It was one of his genuine laughs. 

 

Lance gritted his teeth. He hated Keith. He hated that Shiro laughed like that around Keith. He hated that stupid mullet head. He hated all of it. 

 

Shiro turned to Lance again. “Keith has helped me out of some pretty bad spots. He’s practically my brother at this point. I’ve really wanted to have you meet him, but—“ Shiro paused and the two exchanged a look. It was a very significant look, the kind of look that communicated so much and could only develop over time and coordination with one another. 

 

“He was in space.” Lanced filled in. 

 

Lance couldn’t give Shiro that kind of look. They’d only been bonded for a little over a month now. 

 

“Yeah,” Keith said with that snort. That snort of knowing something that no one else did. Something that clearly Shiro knew and they were keeping from Lance—God, Lance was spiraling faster then ever! 

 

“Paladin Shiro!” It was a messenger. 

 

Shiro turned, his hand was still at the small of Lance’s back. “yes?” He answered. 

 

The messenger looked a bit nervous, though who wouldn’t be in Shiro’s presence. 

 

“The swordsmanship competition is starting, sir.” 

 

“Right.” Shiro gave a brisk nod. He turned. “You in for this one, Keith?” 

 

Keith shook his head, sliding his helmet up under his arm. “Naw, I’m done for the day.” 

 

“Wimp,” Shiro playfully jabbed with a chuckle. 

 

“Just cause I’m not stupid enough to climb in the ring with you,” Keith snorted again. 

 

Lance knew he was missing something again at that point. Was Shiro a great fighter? He'd never actually seen Shiro fight. He’d seen him in training as the Black Lion, but nothing beyond. 

 

“I’ll come watch though,” 

 

Lance was startled out of his thoughts and looked over to see coal black eyes watching him. 

 

“Me and Lance can watch together.” Keith said. 

 

Lance narrowed his eyes. He rarely felt the urge to correct someone but this time he couldn’t let it slide as his brow creased he hissed. “ _Prince,_ ” 

 

Keith gave a smile. It was like watching a snake smile, it was slimy and scaly. “My apologizes, Prince Lance.” 

 

Lance didn’t smile back. 

 

Shiro leaned in to his ear. “Play nice, kitten.” Above all else though, he sounded amused. 

 

It gave Lance pause for a moment. It was like getting a glimpse of Shiro he’d never seen before. As Lance looked over at him. so close to his face he could swear—

 

Then Shiro was smiling his usual gentile smile and it was gone. 

 

“He poked first.” Lance defended. 

 

It only earned him a chuckle before Shiro was sliding a hand down Lance’s spine unfairly and bidding them good bye. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro wasn’t a good fighter—he was a damn near made for it! He was quite possibly the most perfect warrior Lance had ever seen. 

 

As Lance watched how Shiro expertly dealt with another opponent, he realized something as well. Shiro liked to play with his victims. 

 

The knight could barely get a good slash in at the other end of the ring, but he made the mistake of standing every time Shiro beat him down. 

 

Lance suddenly saw it again as he looked closer at his mate. The crowd around him was cheering, a chant of “Black! Black! Black!” had started up. It was clear Shiro was the favorite. Lance would be surprised if he wasn’t Tournament Champion by the end of the day. 

 

Lance stayed still where he was though,m watching as Shiro prowled back closer to his prey, waiting, watching for him to try and stand again. 

 

“There is so much you don’t know about him,” Lance heard Keith whisper from next to him. Or at least he thought he heard—when Lance looked over Keith wasn’t speaking. He was looking at Lance though, he wore that same snaky smile too. 

 

“Having fun, Prince?” Keith asked as he took a sip of his drink. 

 

Lance hastily looked away, not bothering with an answer. 

 

The answer was actually—no. he wasn’t. He looked down as Shiro’s sword skidded across the knights armor, hurling the knight back to the ground and even in the advanced armor leaving a long scratch across the front. 

 

Finally the knight tapped out, holding up his arm in surrender. 

 

Shiro smiled as he stepped back. 

 

It was the smile of—of something with fangs. Lance looked away and back over at Keith. 

 

“How many more are there?” 

 

There couldn’t be many. Lance had already watched Shiro take down over eight men at this point. A few had been bigger then him even, and still Shiro had come out on top every time. 

 

But as Lance—he didn’t want to watch any more of this Shiro. He’d get used to it over time. He’d have to realize his mate was ruthless in battle as time went on. With all Shiro had seen, it was no doubt a necessity in his life. But seeing it so raw now—Lance wanted his Shiro back. The Shiro that smiled so sweetly and sometimes said the wrong thing but tried so hard to say the right thing and had slept on the couch for a week just to make Lance comfortable… 

 

“There’s one more after this,” Keith was smiling though, nearly giddy it seemed. 

 

With a creased brow, Lance inquired further. “Who is it?” he looked down at the data tablet in his hand to try to find the schedule. 

 

“Oh that won’t tell you,” Keith accommodated. “It’s the Champion match up ahead.” 

 

It took several seconds to click. “Oh,” Lance breathed. “So if he wins the next one—?” 

 

Keith nodded. “Yup!” He smiled proudly. “That would make our boy Tournament Champ!” 

 

That made Lance feel at least a bit better as he turned back to watch the ring. One more and his Shiro would be back to him. 

 

The ring was already preparing for the next match. Shiro had been pulled off as the sentries polished the ring to it's pristinely spotless white for the final match. Lance tried not to think about the bits of blood they were cleaning up as well. 

 

Sitting back into the cushions of the private pod he took a drink. Since Keith was with him, Lance had them escorted to one of the private ring side pods, they were closer to the match anyway, ringing the front for a better view if Lance was honest. Up above, was the grand royal platform. His father would be there as well as any other bits of invited courtiers and off shoot royals. they were lined with billowing blue drapery and overflowing vases of flowers. High over head waved the proud deep blue flag of the royal Altea House. 

 

Looking up at it made Lance suck in a breath. His family had sat on the throne for that last ten thousand years. They were chosen to rule—the Lion Goddess had given the throne to them. They’d never had to go to war for their seat over Altea—but Lance. He swallowed thickly. 

 

It was when there was a blasting of horns that Lance pulled his eyes away. 

 

A keen sense of pride as the announcer came through the speakers, “Announcing, the brave conquer of the Altea Alliance! The Black Paladin of Voltron! Takashi Shirogano.” 

 

Lance couldn’t stop the slight smile as Shiro took a step into the arena.. His armor had been changed and he was now in a lithe and slim fitting black armor, and at his back was a massive black metal sword. 

 

“Announcing, Her royal highness, Princess Allura.” 

 

Lance tipped the flute he was holding on the table just as he stood. His eyes to the arena with a sick churning in his stomach. He looked at his sister standing in all white armor, a short sword and shield in either hand. 

 

Behind him, he didn’t miss the smirk on Keith’s face. 

 

* * *

 

As the match started Lance hastily went to the edge of the pod. His nerves jumped in his veins. As he watched his sister ready her stance as Shiro smiled and pulled that long sword from its sheath on his back. 

 

Lance swallowed, downing the last of his drink before he set the long flute down again and leaned into the wall, watching. 

 

“Not sure who to root for?” 

 

Lance gave Keith an indignant look but other wise ignored him. 

 

Why was he here? Lance had expected him to give Lance an excuse and leave more then an hour or so ago. Hell, he’d expected it about thirty-seconds after Shiro had introduced them. 

 

He heard the snort from behind him but Lance kept looking forward. 

 

Shiro had already started stalking. That predatory smile he wore as he did sent another shiver through Lance. It wasn’t a face he was familiar with. 

 

Allura on the on the hand looked focused—almost to the point of detriment. 

 

“Breathe,” Lance murmured under his breath. 

 

She looked tense, her shoulders were held too tight, her grip almost white knuckled on her sword. 

 

Lance had just watched Shiro topple opponents like dominoes and this was always his first and a startling effective tactic. The confidence and assurity he exuded was enough of a weight to cause mistakes, mistakes Shiro’s sharp eyes never seemed to miss. If Lance’s sister wanted to win she would need to calm down. 

 

Allura struck out first, giving a fierce battle cry as she lunged and held that shield at the ready as she swung the sword at Shiro. 

 

Shiro dodged the second but on the up swing lifted his own sword and parried, but it was with more force than Allura must have expected because she skidded and her stance widened before she lunged back. 

 

Shiro parried again before side stepping as Allura threw her weight into another thrust. 

 

Nibbling at his lip, Lance couldn’t help the frown. Lance wasn’t a good swordsman but he knew enough. Shiro was letting Allura tire herself out, letting her lead until she stumbled… Allura needed to calm down, think through, stop attacking and start—

 

A clank of a sword against steel rung out as Shiro’s massive claymore struck into Allura’s shield for the first time in the match. 

 

He smiled as Shiro gave a growl and pushed back. 

 

Allura stumbled back a few feet but regained her stance quickly enough before she hurled herself back at Shiro. 

 

It was the wrong move as Shiro ducked the sword slash and with an expert move—Lance’s breath caught as Allura’s shield flew across the arena, it hit the arena’s polished floor with a clatter rolling like a quarter over a table top until it circled in to tumble with another clatter. 

 

Shiro leaned into Allura and gave a smile so—so harsh and sharp it made Lance’s eyes widen. He said something, something the crowd couldn’t hear before he slid one foot between Allura’s and used the butt of his sword to strike Allura across the face—

 

Lances hand went to his mouth in a gasp.

 

Allura stumbled and her foot caught against Shiro’s before he pulled his foot forward and Allura was yanked down to slam into the arena floor. Lance could see as she winced and grit her teeth from the no doubt crippling pain shooting through her spine. 

 

Suddenly, Lance felt a weight settling on his shoulders, He tipped his head and stopped as he was startled into a freeze frame. Keith had settled his folded arms over Lance’s shoulders. 

 

Lance was a prince… No one touched him. No one was allowed to touch him. 

 

“Ohhhh,” Keith winced. “That looks like it hurt.” He was eyeing Lance under that dark fringe. 

 

Shooting away from Keith, Lance shifted his gaze to him. “What the—“ Lance panted. 

 

Keith just casually looked back to the arena. “She’s gonna have to pull off something pretty big, to get this match back in her favor now.” 

 

Still trying to process what had just happened to him, Lance looked back to the arena trying to get his breath back. His eyes widened as he saw his sister trying to get up. She was gritting her teeth hard, her expression that of agony as she shifted up and tried to push up to her feet. Lances eyes darted to the blood running down her face where Shiro had bashed with the bult of his sword. 

 

If this wasn’t—if this had been real. 

 

Lance’s gaze darted to Shiro again. He stood tall in the center of the arena, the sword held relaxed but in such a way he could lift it with a flick of his wrist. The smile he wore was more subtle this time, it was —satisfied… 

 

There was a bad taste in Lance’s mouth. 

 

“Get up,” he whispered a he looked back to his sister. 

 

She finally managed to get to her feet. Her eyes burned as she looked to Shiro but she pulled the second short sword from its scabbard on her back. 

 

That was good. Allura was a master at dual wielding. She could still take this… 

 

The arena froze though as suddenly Allura looked up. There was a commotion from—Lance twisted around to watch with wide eyes. The royal platform had several people running to the throne—His father. 

 

There was commotion spreading through the arena. His father was clutching at one of his guards as he was slowly sinking back into his seat. His other hand was buried at his robes and he looked to be wheezing. 

 

The crowd slowly noticed as well and all of them turned. a low murmur started.

 

A halt was quickly called as the king was very hastily whisked away. 

 

“I need to go.” Lance said as he watched his fathers guards all clearing the platform. 

 

Keith just gave a hum in acknowledgment. 

 

Lance took one last look at the arena. 

 

Shiro was still looking at Allura. this time—he was still smiling, he was still smiling as he looked at her, but his eyes burned now. He slowly sheathed his sword and strode past her on his way to the entrance. 

 

* * *

 

They wouldn’t let Lance enter his father’s quarters. They’d let Allura through, but Lance had a feeling it had a lot to do with the glowering and snarling she’d used to charge her way through the halls. 

 

So Lance was left out side. Standing in the massive white, empty halls outside his fathers rooms, He had no one with him, no other option to just stand there and worry. 

 

Pacing had been his first option but that had quickly become tedious and so Lance had gone back to just standing. He clutched his arms around him tighter as he tried to tell him self it would all be fine. 

 

A weight settled against him, then over his shoulders—

 

Lance pivoted and jerked away. 

 

“Hey, woah!”” Shiro held up his hands as he blinked at Lance in surprise. 

 

At that moment, Lance quickly had to reconcile in his head who he was standing with him. An image flashed in his mind of the manic look on Shiro’s face as he had viciously slammed his swords pummel across Allura’s face. 

 

If that had been Lance… 

 

Lance shook his head. It was the arena, violence was the fucking point. He raised a hand to his head. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m jumpy.” He tried to explain. “Keith—“ Lance stopped. 

 

Shiro tipped his head. “Keith, What?” His brow creased. 

 

Lance remembered at that moment how Shiro had introduced them. Keith was important to Shiro. 

 

Lance shook his head again. “It was nothing.” He swished his hand before him in a brushing away gesture. “I’m just not used to someone like him and he startled me, I thought you were him again for some reason.” 

 

Shiro cocked a smile at that.

 

It was back. Lance peeked up through his lashes, so hopeful. It was—the smile widened as Shiro took a step closer. 

 

Lance gazed up at him. He couldn’t place the exact difference, but it was—it was his smile. It was gentle and kind and —Lance thrust forward to embrace Shiro. 

 

Immediately Shiro had a hand at the crest of Lance’s head, stroking through his hair softly. 

 

“Everything's going to be all right,” Shiro murmured close to Lances face. 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

It was. His Shiro was back. It was all going to be all right.

 

* * *

 

"Shiro." Lance whispered it. Just in case. He didn't want to wake his Black Paladin if he was already asleep. 

 

Lance hadn't slept. It felt like he'd never sleep again. No matter how tired or wearily his eyes blinked in the darkness, every time he tried to rest back, to let himself slip into unconsciousness, he couldn’t manage it. He just thought about the way his father had looked at him, those tired red rimmed wrinkly eyes.

 

His father was so old.

 

And then there was Shiro… Lance preferred to think about his father quite frankly. 

 

"Shiro," Lance tried again as the thoughts start whirling. He wanted one thing suddenly, so fiercely. The man he’d seen in the arena had been—Lance needed a glimpse of the Paladin that had kissed Lance’s temple gently, or oh so carefully pealed a bandage from his skin, stopping if Lance even barely winced. 

 

There was no response. 

 

Biting his lip, Lance looked around. For once, Shiro was sleeping on his side, facing away from Lance, making it unclear if he was really sleeping or if he was just ignoring Lance’s middle of the night anxiety. 

 

Either way, Lance figured he would probably just keep being ignored. 

 

So he slid forward, adjusting the covers so he could get closer to Shiro. Even from a couple of inches away, his skin radiated heat. Having Shiro just in the same bed always kept Lance so wonderfully warm. 

 

He needed that right now. He felt like he ached just to feel Shiro's ever present warmth seep into him. Shiro was living, he was warm—he wasn’t—Lance looked to the sheets. He just needed to be reassured. 

 

So he didn’t go too far, he didn’t fit them together like spoons, or slide flush against Shiro’s smooth bare back. Lance just slid in enough, just enough, that as he lay back into the bed, he tipped his head just a bit--and Lance let out an involuntary sigh as he pressed his cheek against the base of Shiro's neck, just at the top of his spine. 

 

Unfortunately almost instantly, Shiro's relaxed figure strung with recognition. 

 

Lance squeezed his eyes shut, hoping Shiro wouldn’t comment, that he wouldn’t pull away, that he wouldn’t just--

 

"Lance?" 

 

God, Lance loved that gravelly deep baritone Shiro had right after he'd just woken up. 

 

Lance didn’t move away, but shifted just a bit to look up at Shiro. "Yeah?" 

 

Shiro sighed. It wasn’t one of relief either. 

 

Lance almost drooped at the sound of it. Frowning, he very firmly still didn’t move. 

 

"I was cold," Lance tried to hastily give an excuse. 

 

Shiro was already moving though, and Lance was brushed away. He almost pouted but he still resigned himself a few inches back, away from Shiro again. 

 

But then Shiro was turning, for the first time their eyes met as Shiro lay on his back for a moment before he turned back to his side, this time facing Lance. 

 

Then his fleshy hand was there, beckoning Lance to move back, to curl back into him. 

 

He froze. 

 

Not literally. Well he was rather chilly, he wasn't completely lying to Shiro, but that wasn't his main motive, his main motive was to.... 

 

"Come here," Shiro's tired voice had a touch more awareness to it this time. It also was impatient…

 

That jolted Lance into moving. Hesitantly, Lance moved forward and wiggled back into his previous spot. He didn’t have a chance though to arrange himself as Shiro was suddenly there and arranging Lance in against his chest. His metal arm was up under Lance’s pillow, but cradling Lance close and his other hand, his real one, was rubbing against Lance's shoulder, keeping him close as Shiro settled into the position as well. That warm hand left Lance for just a moment as Shiro pulled the covers back up over them, tucking them up around Lances back. 

 

Shiro even nosed his way in to press his face to Lance’s neck. 

 

"There. Warmer?" His muffled voice vibrated a bit too pleasantly against Lance’s throat. 

 

Lance gave a brisk nod. "Much better." 

 

Shiro chuckled but didn’t further comment, just tightened his hold around Lance. 

 

In turn, Lance burrowed a bit deeper in against Shiro's chest. The skin was so smooth under Lance’s fingers, he pressed his cheek in again. Shiro's heart beat is such a comforting thump-thump, thump-thump, under his ear. 

 

"My father’s dying." 

 

Lance didn’t even really register the words until they left his mouth. 

 

Next to him, Shiro tightened his hold on Lances shoulder. 

 

"Yes, he is." 

 

Lance looked up. In the dark, he couldn't read Shiro's features. He couldn't see his expression. But his mind was swirling with questions. 

 

Lance didn’t say anymore. He felt oddly afraid too. As he caressed his fingers over Shiro's skin he thought he didn't want to hear the answers. 

 

"I don’t—" Lance stoped as he heard the whine in his own voice. 

 

Shiro moved his head, pressing his nose in to skin at the edges of Lances face. 

 

His vision was blurry as Lance clutched his fingers and curled in deeper to Shiro's chest. Was that whimpering sound really him? God Shiro must think him so impossibly weak. 

 

"I don't want to lose him." 

 

Because something felt like it will shatter when his father was gone. Because it felt like Lance had just realized that he was living in a snow globe and his world was perfect, and if Alfor died, if his father lest Lance--what would happen? 

 

The image struck in Lance’s mind again—Shiro slashing his pummel so hard against Allura’s face that blood had speckled through the area, long stringing droplets hitting the polished white arena floor. 

 

"Shhhh," he heard at his ear, Shiro had burrowed in against him more. 

 

It was a bit awkward at first, probably because they both weren’t quite sure how to handle the situation as Shiro started to nuzzle his way down. 

 

When Shiro did finally breath over the pearly bond mark, Lance let out a gasp. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t want to admit it. Looking away, he scraped a hand across his face, hoping Shiro hadn’t noticed. 

 

There was a deep hum, it shot through Lance’s nerve endings almost to the point of jarring. 

 

That’s when Shiro moved his mouth in over the overly sensitive mark. He kissed it first, sending a jolt through Lance, before Shiro flushed his mouth over it, and suckled. 

 

It was like a freaking light switch, suddenly Lances entire world with the boy next to him. He wanted to touch Shiro’s hair again suddenly. He flattened a hand on his chest though. He could feel that strong heart beat, he didn’t want to ever stop feeling that. 

 

Lance was definitely not on the verge of tears anymore as he turned to putty in his partners arms. 

 

“There you go,” Shiro spoke over the mark. “come on,” he urged Lance back to the bed more as Shiro shifted around, getting more comfortable himself. 

 

It occurred to Lance suddenly that Shiro’s arm was still under him. And he was trying to urge him back into sleep. If Lance fell asleep… 

 

“No, Shiro…” Lance tried to protest. 

 

In half a second, Shiro removed himself from over Lance’s neck. 

 

“NO!” Lance very greatly protested at that, the sheets and covers were thrown to the wind as Lance scrambled back into Shiro’s arms very firmly. He definitely didn’t want to be separated at this point. 

 

The Black paladin froze under him, his hands in the air as Lance clamped on around his neck. 

 

“uh,” Shiro breathed. 

 

Lance didn’t relent, his arms clasped around his neck and flattened himself against Shiro. 

 

“I’m confused.” Shiro admitted. 

 

Lance curled his hand around Shiro’s neck, his hand sliding over the soft close crop of the hair at the back of his neck. 

 

One hand finally came down, this time petting a soothing stroke down Lances back. 

 

“You just told me, no.” Shiro murmured into Lance’s ear. “I need a bit of clarification now.” 

 

Right. Lance rest his head on Shiro’s shoulder. 

 

“Your arm is still under me,” Lance suddenly felt a bit dumb trying to explain. “If we’d slept like that—your arm would have gone to sleep… it would have hurt in the morning.” 

 

He could practically hear the amusement int Shiro’s voice as he relaxed. “Lance,” he was urging Lance back to lay on the bed, and less on Shiro. 

 

“Yeah?” Lance finally relented and laid back on the bed, flat on his back now under Shiro, his head resting again on Shiro’s arm. 

 

Which the arm suddenly curled around and cool metal fingers were sifting through Lances hair. 

 

Right, one slip of affection and it seemed the flood gates had been opened. 

 

The devious smile Shiro wore was startlingly attractive as he got comfortable next to Lance, nuzzling back in against this neck. Lances eyes rolled up as SHiro was back to suckling at the mark. 

 

Then Shiro’s lips were at Lance’s ear. “My arm is metal,” He pointed out to Lance. 

 

Lance just nodded. “Yeah.” He might have nodded at what ever Shiro said just so long as he’d put his mouth back on his neck. 

 

“So I don’t have any blood flow running through it.” Shiro chuckled. “I’ll be just fine.” 

 

The embarrassment was a small inkling edging on Lances senses but it was barely gettingthe drumming beat of Shiro, shiro, shiro. 

 

“Okay,” Lance easily conceded. 

 

Shiro was actually laughing at him this time, but he was sinking into the mattress again, his mouth was back on Lance’s neck as he nibbled and arranged Lance back into a position ready for sleep. 

 

It was a few minutes before Shiro finally left Lance’s neck alone and the fog hazing over his thoughts lifted. Thankfully, Shiro didn't pull away though, instead resting a hand over Lance’s hip as his eyes flicked closed. 

 

"Shiro," Lance asked one more time. Sleep was approaching him fast as well, but he wasn't still in a hormonal thrall. 

 

Shiro just hummed in acknowledgement this time. 

 

"Thank you," Lance murmured. 

 

Shiro hummed again and leaned in just enough to press a kiss into Lance’s hair. "'Course." He mumbled before constricting his metal arm again, pulling Lance in against his chest more. 

 

Lance almost didn't catch the second murmured low comment.

 

“Everything will be just fine, my prince.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Lesson of this Chapter: it’s rude to try and marry a person thats already married.
> 
> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)


	4. IV

The day before felt like a dream. But Lance knew it was real. In the still early hours of the morning, Lance remembered Shiro moving away from him in bed. Lance had clung to him, murmuring nonsense about staying, but Shiro had still left, reassuring Lance he wouldn’t be gone forever.  
  
When Lance finally got out of bed, the first place he’d gone was to get a status update on his father—  
  
He hadn’t expected to find himself left back in the hall without a word on his father’s condition.  
  
“Prince Lance?”  
  
“What?” Lance said a bit more grumpily than he had intended. When he turned to the source of the voice he quickly straightened and changed his tune. “Paladin Yarl—Uh it’s a—I apologize—“  
  
The very thin elderly man that was the Green Paladin held up his hand to stop Lance.  
  
“It’s understandable.” Yarl glanced at the grandiose doors leading to the King’s Quarters. “I was told they’re not letting anyone in.” He glanced back at Lance. “I wasn’t aware that pertained even to his son.”  
  
Lance was never sure how to act around Yarl. Like Shiro, the man was just too god damned sincere.  
  
Raising his hand, Lance stammered on. “Right, but I still feel I should apologize, I should have greeted you more warmly.”  
  
Yarl was always quick to smile, a grin spread on his face. “Don’t worry about it.” He made a swiping motion with his hand. The grin faded quickly as Yarl cast his dark eyes to Lance. “I actually came to find you.”  
  
Lance frowned.  
  
There wasn’t much Lance had ever had in common with Yarl. He was an old Paladin, one of Lance’s father's generation. Iso the Red Paladin had replaced Roric Alfor’s Red Paladin three years before the death of Ganon, the Blue Paladin. That had started the slow turning over of the Paladins of Voltron, Then Yellow had picked Hunk and just a little while ago—Shiro had been picked as Black.  
  
Lance frowned deeper as he realized, Yarl was the last of the old generation of Paladins.  
  
“Yes?” Lance asked as he looked over Yarl.  
  
Wrinkled face and deep dark marks under his eyes, Yarl looked old.  
  
“Do you mind if we speak in the council rooms?”  
  
Lance pursed his lips but shook his head. “Of course not.”  
  
Yarl gave another smile before gesturing for Lance to lead the way.  
  
The Paladin Council rooms were a part of the palace with restricted access to only the Paladins of Voltron and the high council members. As far as Lance knew, even Allura wasn't allowed there. It was probably the only place in the entire Palace Lance had been, but his elder sister hadn’t.  
  
The rooms were nothing special on their own  really. It was more like going to a temple of the Lion Goddess than anything else. Everything was smooth lines and white walls. Unlike the rest of the palace, there was no rich gold adornments or crystalline sparkling stained glass windows.  
  
Lance had learned that at one time it was where the Paladins had lived as well. That’s when the service was more of a monks calling then what it had become now.  
  
Once entering the grand council hall, Lance let Yarl lead the way.  
  
He was so—slight, Lance thought, possibly even skinnier than himself, and that would be an accomplishment.  
  
“I’ve been told your mate hasn’t spent much time in these halls.”  
  
Lance looked around before resting his gaze on Yarl. “Neither have I really, if I’m honest.”  
  
There wasn’t much reason too after all. The rooms were used for meetings of the Paladins of Voltron, but prosperous times—there hadn’t been a need.  
  
Yarl chuckled. “The two of you don’t really seem like much of the religious type.”  
  
Lance shook his head. He wasn’t sure about Shiro, but judging from his clear distaste for Acolytes Lance would say it was a fair assessment to say that Shiro wasn’t exactly fond of religion.  
  
Yarl still just smiled at Lance as his eyes looked around him.  
  
Lance wondered what it was he was seeing that Lance didn’t—white walls, simple white chairs around another impossibly simple white curved, half circle table.  
  
“Our new Leader—“ Yarl started. He tipped his head to Lance. “He has a lot of potential I think.”  
  
Lance nodded.  
  
“But—“ Yarl stopped his brow creased. “I’m very glad he’s picked you as a mate.”  
  
Lance wanted to snort but he didn’t. They didn’t in anyway pick each other. But if Yarl was trying to be kind with his words, Lance wasn’t going to step in to correct him.  
  
“I think he’s going to need the sway of a—of such a characteristic Blue!” Yarl chuckled.  
  
He’d always been told he was the poster child for a Blue, so Lance just smiled at the words.  
  
“Yarl?”  
  
But Lance was—growing anxious.  
  
“Yes, Your Highness?”  
  
Lance breathed out slow before he asked. “Why are we here?”  
  
Yarl just continued to stare at him for a long moment before he gave another smile.  
  
“I’m getting old, Your Highness.”  
  
Giving a slow nod, Lance had no idea what Yarl was chipping away at.  
  
“And within the week, I will be announcing my retirement from the Paladins.”  
  
The statement was like a cold breeze on Lance’s face. He just—  
  
“What?” Lance asked.  
  
Yarl was old, but he wasn’t—he wasn’t like Lance’s father. He was still sharp as a tack and though he tired faster than the rest of them during training he could still pin a gladiator sentry to the ground with that long spear of his in under four-seconds. All with that sparkling grin.  
  
Yarl just still smiled. “It’s time. This isn’t my team anymore.”  
  
“Is this...” Lance struggled. “Is this because of Shiro?”  
  
“No, my boy! Of course not!” Yarl jumped at the statement, then reconsidered. “Though at the same time if I’m honest—yes.”  
  
Lance frowned. He wasn’t sure how to… Shiro was so much to him.  
  
“But not how you think, Your Highness.” Yarl hastily replied. “The Black Paladin—“ Yarl's old old eyes looked over Lance. “Your Highness, a storm is coming—you know that, right?”  
  
Lance looked up at that. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say even if he could manage it.  
  
Because the answer was—yes.  
  
Lance knew something was wrong about so much lately. He could sense the shift. The world was changing and it was slipping right under his feet.  
  
“There’s a war on the horizon I think, and I’m afraid it might be real this time, not the usual posturing threat. ” Yarl said, his smile was much less sad this time. “And I don’t know, maybe I’m just being selfish, but I’m not sure if I have it in me to fight. Not at this point in my life.”  
  
“Why are you telling me?” Lance asked.  
  
Why were they alone? Why did Yarl want them in a place no one could overhear them talking? Why Lance? Of all people, shouldn’t it be Shiro, Yarl was telling all of this to?  
  
“I think we both know why.” Yarl said softly.  
  
Lance stood so still he was certain he could become a statue if he chose.  
  
“You should be prepared.” Yarl went on. “Things are changing very quickly and I think—your sister’s focus isn’t wrong—but it’s blinding her.”  
  
Yarl stepped forward to Lance, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be blinded, Lance.”  
  
Lance couldn’t get himself to move. Was he still breathing? He couldn’t tell.  
  
Yarl stepped away from him on his way back towards the door. "The Black Paladin isn't the only one I think that has a lot of potential."  
  
As he left, the room was quiet. Lance wondered if he was left in a sanctuary or a tomb.  
  


* * *

  
  
He wanted to see Shiro.  
  
But as Lance came back through their bedroom door, He was met by—  
  
“Keith?” Lance said as he blinked.  
  
The boy—was lounging on their couch. And it looked like he’d had a late lunch brought to him there as well.  
  
A smile curled on his lips as he looked at Lance, he licked some honey from a finger as he sat up a bit straighter.  
  
“Lan—“  
  
“Your Highness,” Lance cut in.  
  
There was silence in the room again. Keith’s gaze on Lance didn’t falter in the least bit.  
  
“Your Highness,” Keith gave a grand gesture with his hand and mockingly bowed from his seat on the couch.  
  
Striding in, Lance made no attempt to hide his irritation as he started to remove his jacket. He felt stiff and overheated.  
  
“Why are you here, Keith?” Lance asked. He went to the side table, the one before the large mirror in their sitting room. He removed his gloves, laying them across the table’s polished surface before looking up at the mirror.  
  
The pearly mark at his neck was barely visible over the blue collar of his shirt. But even looking at it gave him a flash of a memory, of standing at that table before, Of Shiro standing behind him—only in the flash…  
  
Shiro had been smiling at Lance, an arm around Lances middle, bottomless grey eyes staring at Lance in the mirror as Shiro nuzzled in against the mark and flashed that smile—the same smile he’d flashed at Allura…  
  
Lance looked away. That wasn’t a memory he’d had.  
  
“I missed you,” Keith snorted. His tone was dripping with sarcasm.  
  
Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah and pigs fly,” He grumbled under his breath.  
  
Keith took another bite from his honey smothered sweet bread roll as he leaned back on the couch, looking over his shoulder to Lance.  
  
After chewing, Keith spoke again. “Maybe I was sent here,” Keith gave a shrug. “To you know, keep an eye on you.”  
  
Lance frowned at that. “Right, cause of all people I need to be supervised by the likes of you.”  
  
Keith actually chuckled at that. With another couple of bites he finished off his roll.  
  
As he leaned forward, facing back to the coffee table filled with food, he spoke again. “Lighten up a little, Lancie Pants! “ He took another bite of something Lance couldn’t see. “You left in a hurry after all, I came to see how you were doing. Your pops doing okay?”  
  
The gloves still on the table at Lance’s fingertips were fisted in half a second. He gritted his teeth. “I’m doing fine,” Lance tried to think how his sister would handle the situation. “Thank you for your concern.”  
  
“You got it!” Keith gave a mock salute of his fingers in the air over the couch back. Lance also wasn’t impressed with the bland monotone in Keith’s voice.    
  
It only irritated Lance more than ever. He huffed as he glared through the mirror at Keith.  
  
As if on cue, Keith swiveled around to lean over the back of the couch to look at Lance.  
  
“Hey, you should come eat.”  
  
Lance turned around, he leaned back against the side table but now looked at Keith straight on. “I’m fine, thank you.”  
  
Keith gave a shrug. “Okay, suit yourself.” Keith turned back around to start layering honey onto another roll.  
  
Lance gave a sigh.  
  
Sometimes it was kind of miserable to be a prince. He wanted Keith to leave, but without a proper reason for kicking him out it would be seen as—unseemly.  
  
Sentenced to suffer through Keith’s unbearable presence, Lance decided it would be preferable not to suffer on an empty stomach. Trudging to one of the arm chairs, Lance bent to pick up a stem of grapes. As he slumped into the chair, he plucked one off and started to chew on it.  
  
“So I’ve got a question for you,” Keith said before taking another bite of a honey roll.  
  
Lance just hummed in acknowledgement.  
  
“So, the king. He’s not doing too well I hear.”  
  
In half a second, Lance was at one hundred percent full attention. Sitting up in his chair, he looked to Keith.  
  
“My father will be just fine,” Lance said as firmly as he could.  
  
“Of course he will be, “ Keith said slowly, his gaze drifting up to meet Lance’s. He looked away just as he reached for another bite of food. “But let’s just pretend he won’t be,” Keith went on as he snagged himself a peach and sat back into the couch, his arm extending along the back of the couch. “Who ascends to the throne when, you know, the inevitable comes?”  
  
The grapes in Lance’s hand were completely forgotten as Lance pressed his lips into a tight line. “Allura ascends to the throne.”  
  
Keith gave a nod, but made a face. “But who decides that?”  
  
Clearing his throat, Lance sat forward just a bit as he ran through the process in his own head. “Well the High Council has final say on who is chosen, but it-it will follow the blood lines, and Allura is heir by blood and by right.”  
  
“I see,” Keith nodded and his voice had a small lift in it as if he really had learned something. “and the High council, the Black Paladin is on that, right?”  
  
Lance felt the air leave his lungs very quickly at the question, but he still nodded. “Yes, technically Shiro is on the High Council.”  
  
“So what would happen if Allura were dead?” Keith took a bite from his peach.  
  
“What?” Lance wondered at that moment when his life had changed so drastically.  
  
It felt like just a few days ago he’d been scolded for spending too much time in bed or skipping out on court or for flirting too much with the Ladies of the court at dinner. And now—now it was just one tense situation after another, one terrible revelation followed by another. Lance felt like he was being strung along, like he’d been invited along for a trip and he wasn’t sure where he was headed and where he was going and—  
  
Lance looked away to the floor. “There’s no reason for Allura not to be able to take the throne.”  
  
Keith leaned forward, tipped his head and waited.  
  
It wasn’t till Lance glanced up that he spoke.  
  
“Humor me.”  
  
Lance considered not answering. He considered not saying a word, but in the end it felt like it was almost pulled out of him.  
  
“Typically, I—I would ascend at that point.”  
  
Keith's gaze was still on him, it was still holding Lance in place like a knife to his throat.  
  
Ever so subtly, a corner of Keith's lips curled, slithering into a smile.  
  
“And if you’re dead?” Keith asked. “What then, Your Highness?”  
  
Lance could hear his heartbeat, it was hitting so hard against his chest, it was rushing blood through his ears. He couldn’t look away from Keith, his mouth dropped open but no words came, his lips felt dry and he blinked a couple of times trying to process—  
  
The door opened then.  
  
If Shiro was startled to find his sitting room occupied he didn’t show it. Instead his gaze looked to Keith first before settling on Lance, a smile tugged at his lips and he stepped forward.  
  
“Keith,” He said in a tone that suggested he was pleasantly surprised. But his feet took him straight to the armchair where Lance was sitting.  
  
It was like Shiro’s touch released him from whatever hold Keith’s questions had on him and Lance melted as Shiro simply pet a hand over Lance’s shoulder and down his spine.  
  
“Hey,” Shiro cooed to Lance before gifting him with a soft nuzzle at the bond mark.  
  
Lance had to stop himself from tangling a few of his limbs around Shiro and forcibly keeping him in place.  
  
“Have ya had lunch yet?” Keith asked before he took another bite of his peach.  
  
Shiro shook his head. “Naw, haven’t had time.”  
  
Keith held out his hands as if to present the food to Shiro. “Well, you are welcome to dig in!”  
  
Shiro gave a snort. “You are aware this is my room, right?”  
  
“Don’t see your name on it,” Keith drawled.  
  
All that earned him was a chuckle as Shiro walked around the room to the drinks cart. Lance stood and followed him.  
  
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was seeking, possibly just a reprieve from Keith. He wanted to cling to Shiro as they met at the small cart, but instead Shiro just held out a glass of what looked like juice to Lance.  
  
Lance took it, taking a small sip.  
  
“I just got out of a meeting with Yarl,” Shiro said casually as he poured himself a drink of the same thick deep purple juice. “He’s retiring. It becomes official the end of this week.” His gaze flicked up to Lance’s. “You wouldn’t know anything about it all, would you?”  
  
Lance pushed out a breath, forcing himself to take in another as he lifted the drink to his lips again, taking the drink in order to give his nerves time to settle down in his veins.  
  
“No. Why?”  
  
Shiro made a face as he gave a slight shrug. “It just seemed sudden.”  
  
Lance gave his own shrug “Yarl is getting old.”  
  
Those intense grey eyes were on Lance, probably hadn’t left since Shiro had first entered the room.  
  
Lance felt suddenly small in their reflection, paper thin, like the smallest flinch and he’d tear, spilling every bit of his insides for Shiro.  
  
Then Shiro stepped forward. “You’re right, it's probably a good time for him to retire,” He murmured before a hand slid onto Lance’s neck. It was to hold him in place as Shiro rubbed against the mark again, even giving it a light nip and drag of his teeth before he turned to Keith, striding into the sitting room to start on a late lunch as well.  
  
Looking down at his juice, Lance felt like he never wanted to eat again.

 

* * *

 

Throughout the next few days, Shiro was backed into wall to wall meetings. It seemed since the King had taken ill—well everyone’s responsibilities had expounded. The few times Lance had seen Shiro, he’d looked tired and had seemed agitated. It was usually before they went to bed, or even later if Shiro had an exceptionally full day.  
  
Lance hadn’t pushed any affection again but if he was lucky a tired Shiro would pull him in against his chest. The past several nights though—Shiro had just crawled under the sheets, and was usually asleep before Lance had a chance to even turn over.  
  
Allura had been even more of a ghost. Lance would see her at breakfast if he was lucky but never more. It made sense all of the king’s duties were dropping straight onto her shoulders.  
  
And then there was—  
  
“There was an attack,”  
  
Keith had looked so neutral as he said it.  
  
Lance wasn’t sure how his world had flipped so dramatically that Keith had started to be the one to tell him key information.  
  
“It was on a star cruiser.”  
  
Maybe it was because the information was coming from Keith, but Lance had quickly excused himself.  
  
The gardens’ seemed like the only sane place in the castle. It was the only place there wasn’t whispers about his father.  
  
No one was allowed in yet. And Lance felt like the secrecy was what was starting to bother people. He wasn’t sure what the point was anymore. They all knew if he was being kept away, he was clearly ill. It was the lack of transparency that made them uneasy.  
  
As Lance sat at the edge of a water lily pond, there was something else eating him inside out as well.  
  
He’d lied to his mate.  
  
Lance scooped up a lily. It was a pale yellow, and almost gleamed in the midday sun. Hunk loved these flowers.  
  
Lance physically sighed with the thought. Hunk was another problem.  
  
They hadn’t spoken since Lance and he had fought. And Lance still needed to apologize. He set the flower back afloat before drawing his arms in around himself. He squeezed tight, clutching his small frame in thinner. He wanted to feel bound together like that, the binding holding him all in one piece.  
  
“It feels like the world’s flipped upside down, doesn’t it?”  
  
Lance turned to find his sister.  
  
“Upside down and possibly set on fire.” Lance quibbed.  
  
Allura gave him a melodic chuckle. “The fire must not have reached here yet then.”  
  
Lance looked around him. “Oh no, it’s here. Trust me, I can feel the heat.”  
  
“It must be the tranquil appearance that’s fooling me.” Allura said as she came to the end of the pools raised rims. She slid into sit next to Lance more easily than Lance expected.  
  
“It’s been so terribly long since I’ve been in these gardens,” Allura sighed. Her gaze was out over the water, looking at the expanse of flowers and hedges and general splendor of nature. "I nearly got lost trying to find you. I always forget these gardens were designed to be a giant spiraling maze."  
  
“I’ve come here every day since…” Lance trailed off. He looked back down at the water.  
  
He felt Allura’s hand then, brushing over his head, lightly petting his short hair.  
  
It wasn’t till Lance looked up though that Allura spoke.  
  
“My dear baby brother,” She gave a sad smile. “When did we grow up?”  
  
Lance smiled as well. “I didn’t know you had such a high opinion of me.”  
  
The sound of Allura’s laugh was something Lance always loved. Ever since he was little. Maybe that was a big part of who he was. His goofy, embarrassing self—all because he just wanted to hear people laugh.  
  
When it was finally quiet again, Lance asked. “How’s father?”  
  
Allura didn’t say anything, which probably said more than anything.  
  
Lance pulled a knee up to his chest. “Will he recover?”  
  
Allura did give a firm nod at that. “I believe so.” She didn’t look hopeful though. “Lance—it will... Our father will never be the same though. His age has come upon him very quickly.”  
  
Lance had guessed.  
  
“I think we have turned a page in our lives.”  
  
Lance nodded.  
  
“You know that’s why I’m here, right?”  
  
Sighing, Lance gave another nod.  
  
His sister didn’t do casual anymore. She was right, since she’d grown up—she didn't have time for anything that didn’t further her goals, and wandering in the maze of gardens was far from furthering.  
  
“How is your relationship with Shiro coming?”  
  
Lance jerked his head up towards his sister. He had one hundred percent not expected that question.  
  
“We’re fine.”  
  
Allura nodded. “The two of you seem to get along very well, is he as affectionate with you when you’re alone?”  
  
Lance blinked. Like it was an act? Was that really what she was suggesting?  
  
“We’re good.” Lance reaffirmed. “Allura, it’s been a month.”  
  
“Exactly,” Allura shot back. “And things are already changing quicker than I planned. Lance I need your reassurance that Shiro is in support of us.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Lance asked, exasperated.  
  
“The Acolytes made it clear he was not open for discussion of an heir. Is he withdrawn from you?”  
  
Lance blinked. Was this really happening? Was his sister really asking him if Shiro and he—?  
  
“He supports me.” Lance said firmly. It was an answer he could give.  
  
“And what about the rest of the kingdom?”  
  
“Would you like me to ask him if he plans on racing you to the throne?” Lance spat out.  
  
The scolding look he received from his sister didn’t sting all that much. Had she forgotten? It was her who had pointed out they weren’t all that young any more.  
  
“Lance,” She said. Her look didn’t change. “You know I don’t mean that—“  
  
“Then why do you keep implying it?” Lance cut in. He grumpily looked off. “My relationship with my mate is none of your business.”  
  
“Excuse you, it is exactly my business!”  
  
“What, because you’re the one that forced me into it?!” Lance hissed at his sister.  
  
A thought suddenly occurred to Lance, one he’d never considered, but Shiro—he had said yes to the marriage.  
  
“What was promised to Shiro for the marriage, huh?” Lance narrowed his eyes. “Because I thought the least I’d get was you off my back.”  
  
The look that crossed his sister’s face was dark. “That’s a wholly inappropriate question.”  
  
“You just asked me if my mate has fucked me!” Lance shot back.  
  
That startled her for once. “You need to give this kingdom an heir.” She said as if it was an obvious fact.  
  
“Why?” Lance held out his arms. “It’s been a freaking month! Are you that eager to have something to hold over his head?”  
  
“That is not what I meant!” Allura was finally starting to sound angry. “You know, I would never—“  
  
“You forced me to marry a man I’d just barely met!” Lance was standing before he realized. “I don’t have any idea what you wouldn’t do at this point!”  
  
“My family is everything to me!” Allura defended herself. “So you’re right, there is very little I wouldn’t do for them!”  
  
“And in that endeavor, you made him my family!” Lance pointed out. “Allura—” he just—how could she not understand? “It wasn’t just some political contract marriage—we life-bonded.” Lance drew in on himself. “I can’t even explain to you what that feels like. I know him—at such a different level than I’ve ever known someone. I can’t even explain, it’s like I’ve been—like I can feel his blood in me, like I can hear his heartbeat, all the time!”  
  
Allura’s lips pressed into a cold line. “and what does he feel like, baby brother?”  
  
Like lightning. Like a rolling lightning storm on the horizon. And Lance had only felt his true strike once, only been seared once by it, and he never wanted it to happen again. Lance straightened a little. “It none of your damn business.”  
  
“I am doing all this for us.” Allura said as if Lance needed reminding.  
  
“What was promised to him?” Lance pressed again. “What are you so worried about?”  
  
“He received a prince,” Allura hissed. “There’s not much else that could compare to that.”  
  
That wasn’t an answer. And moreover, Lance pulled in a breath. “I wasn’t aware I was a commodity.”  
  
Reeling, Lance was taking off at a brisk pace before his sister could catch him. Within a couple turns he knew he could lose her anyway. She'd already said she could no longer remember the turns of the palace gardens.  
  


* * *

  
  
He needed to think through some things, and the best place to do that—was always at the end of a sword.  
  
As the gladiator to his left advanced, Lance slashed his sword up, bracing for the clang of the gladiators sword as well. That's when the second bot came in and Lance was forced to thrust off one so he could block the downward cleave of the other. Lance repelled it and skittered a few steps away.  
  
He'd set the gladiator level to 7. It wasn’t an impossible level for Lance. He’d actually held up for quite a while at 9. But up close fights were never Lance’s strong suit and even now sweat rolled off his skin. He set it to 7 in order to keep at it for a while, wear him down, and to finally put a freeze frame on his reeling mind.  
  
The thin fabric of the black suit he wore as armor felt hot, and Lance pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. He gripped the lightweight long sword again in both hands.  
  
The blade was thin, so thin it had a bit of flex to it. It was designed for him, to be able to keep opponents away from him, long enough he could glide in for a strike and smoothly slide back out to a safe distance.  
  
It was a fighting style taught to mostly assassins and mercenaries, Lance had learned after years of training with the tiny wrinkly swordsman.  
  
Coran had brought him in, when Lance was around thirteen. Lance was so bad at the traditional royal fighting style he remembered he would do just about anything to get out of training. He would hide in the library, or go down to the servants kitchens, or sneak out to the stables, looking at the tall, thickly-furred elk. Of course all of his hiding spots were always found and he was always dragged back for a fresh set of bruises.  
  
Lance would always be grateful to Coran for suggesting they bring in someone else—someone with less of an Alpha build and fighting mindset.  
  
Not all fights needed to be straightforward after all.  
  
Lance widened his stance before lunging in to strike again. He parried the first hit from the gladiator and ducked the second. His hold on his sword was slipping though, he was sweating and panting as he parried again. He was forced back several steps before the second gladiator attacked, he blocked but had to slide to a knee to avoid a thrust from the first bot.  
  
The second powered through the block, ramming into Lance. Knocked across the floor, it took a second to realize he was at the feet of the other gladiator—His eyes widened, mouth open to call a halt when there was—  
  
Shiro’s roar shook through the training room and Lance watched in shock as Shiro’s metal arm lit up a deep purple before, like lightening, Shiro struck out with it. His hand seared through the gladiator metal like it was putty as Shiro swiftly dismembered the gladiator. He had jumped in directly over Lance, a foot on either side of Lance’s heaving chest.  
  
With a look of utter loathing, Shiro swiveled and sliced out through the air again. The Gladiators AI was trained to learn and this one took a step back, not losing an arm like its companion.  
  
Shiro followed though, charging and Lance scrambled to his feet.  
  
The gladiator couldn’t escape a second slash and the buzz and whirling of its insides were revealed as Shiro opened its chest before giving swift strike to the metal core at it's center. The gladiator crumbled to the ground, like a puppet with cut strings.   
  
The first was still moving though and even though it only had one arm, it struck at Lance who danced away. He wasn’t sure where he’d lost his sword, but it was gone he realized.  
  
He didn't need it though as a swift thrust over his head caught Lance’s breath in his throat as Shiro decapitated the gladiator.  
  
The headless body collapsed and Lance watched the head roll in the opposite direction.  
  
It was quiet for several long ticks before Lance slowly turned.  
  
Shiro still wore that look. There was a thirst in him Lance couldn’t place. Those cold eyes washing over him, made Lance tremble as he looked his mate over.  
  
“I didn’t need that,” the indignant part of Lance spoke.  
  
Shiro growled, it was low and guttural as he stepped forward.  
  
Lance wasn’t sure what instinct was talking to him, but he scrambled back.  
  
Shiro did not take kindly to that and advanced quicker this time, his metal hand striking out.  
  
With a gasp, Lance tried to squirm away, thinking that bright purple might sear through his skin—then right as Shiro touched him, the most beautifully strange sight Lance had ever seen—it was like a spell powering down, just a second before Shiro’s cold metal hand grasped Lance’s chin, the purple faded away in weird symbols and writing leaving Shiro’s hand the familiar cool spotless metal. Shiro’s fingers grasped Lance’s chin gingerly, holding him still as Shiro closed in on him, so precisely controlled.  
  
Lance barely had time to look up from the metal arm before Shiro was leaning in and with another growl he was engulfing Lance, his mouth smothering over Lance’s.  
  
It wasn’t gentle or kind. Shiro devoured Lance through his mouth, yanking him closer, he wrapped an arm around Lance as he forced his mouth open and melded their mouths again.  
  
Flicking his eyes closed, Lance was more than fine to let it happen as he moved his hands up over Shiro’s arms. He smoothed a hand over Shiro’s shoulder. It was so—it was all so big. He felt too insignificant standing in range of Shiro. Everything about the man spoke of being so monumental.  
  
Suddenly Shiro was pushing him back though. Lance wanted to protest even opened his mouth—  
  
But this time, Shiro shoved him, and Lance stumbled back. A metal hand wrapped under Lance’s thigh and yanked hard, taking Lance off his feet. Lance landed with and indignant ‘omppphhh’ on the padded floor of the training room.  
  
He winced and tried to stand before he looked up…  
  
Shiro was over him, sliding down to his knees. He kneed his way over Lance’s legs, holding him down just with the look of—devouring. Lance felt like he was getting eaten in that moment. In a strange sort of way it was like Shiro was taking in every part of him in slow, long,  ravenous bites.  
  
Next to Lance, Shiro’s Black armor hit the mat.  
  
Shiro stretched an arm up to reach behind himself, he hooked a hand in the collar of his black training shirt and yanked. The shirt made a soft whoosh as it slid up over Shiro’s body and was slipped off. It pooled in his hand, a pathetic thing compared to the shape it used to form over Shiro’s chest. He slid it to the floor before leaning in to crawl closer over Lance.  
  
“Are we going to…?” Lance asked. Because it was him and he couldn’t have one moment without embarrassing himself.  
  
Shiro chuckled with an edge of a panthers growl to it.  
  
Taking that as an affirmative, Lance wasn’t sure suddenly if he could breath. He reached out for Shiro again, his fingers sliding over smooth tan skin. His skin tone wasn’t as dark as Lance’s, but it was still so lovely.  
  
“I don’t know…” Lane started.  
  
Was this really how he was going about this? His first time and he was worried about it? Lance tried desperately to catch up to the breath running away from him constantly.  
  
“I’ve got you,” Shiro voice was so low it rubbed across the rock bottom of known sound waves, resounding through Lance’s veins. He caught Lance’s chin again, tipping his head up for a kiss—their second, Lance’s mind supplied. It was their second real kiss ever. Just now—just as Shiro had yanked him in—that had been their first.  
  
“I’m scared of you,” Lance suddenly found flying out of his mouth.  
  
That stopped Shiro. “Why? There’s absolutely nothing I’d ever do to you.” He assured the trembling boy underneath him. “I could never hurt you.”  
  
Lance’s hand slid over the cold surface of Shiro’s arm.  
  
“I didn’t know—it’s a weapon.”  
  
Shiro nodded. “Not many people do know.”  
  
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Lance asked, he couldn’t bring his eyes up to meet the lightening storm in Shiro’s gaze. He was so close to it, he didn’t feel the need to be blinded by it as well.  
  
That metal hand moved suddenly, gliding over Lance’s hand it shifted and spun around before entwining their fingers.  
  
“I’d rather they see the humanity, not the weapon.”  
  
“So you keep secrets?” It was meant as a thought but had pushed its way past Lance’s lips. “What makes me different?”  
  
“You’re mine.” Shiro’s brow furrowed as if it was obvious. “You’ve been different from the moment I gave you that mark.”  
  
“Was it just the mark?” Lance asked. He let himself slide back, letting himself fall back to lay onto the floor.  
  
Shiro shook his head. “You know I’ll never be able to answer that question.”  
  
It was quiet for a while, time enough for Shiro’s words to sink in.  
  
Shiro was right. They never got to know each other without—living inside each other. They craved each other, they wanted to bleed into each other. And that was how they’d come to know each other at all. There wasn’t even a brief moment before. Lance’s first impression of Shiro was his mouth pressed to Lance’s throat.  
  
“Do you wish you hadn’t?” Lance asked.  
  
“Lance,” It was a threatening growl this time. He moved in over Lance, burying his head in and baring his teeth over Lance’s mark.  
  
“I sometimes do.” Lance admitted. “I wish I had told my sister, no.”  
  
Shiro was still over him. Lance couldn’t see him. It was probably preferable that way.  
  
“There’s nothing about the past that can be changed now,” Shiro’s voice rumbled. “Even if we hadn’t gone through with it—” He stalled.  His hand reached up, long fingers filtering through Lance’s hair. “I never thought I’d be so fond of something until I found you.”  
  
That brought a smile to Lance’s face.  
  
“And no.”  
  
The tightening of Shiro’s hold on him made Lance look up a bit more.  
  
“I wouldn’t have let you. If your sister didn’t convince you, I would have.”  
  
Lance swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as he let his hand start seeing for him. He grazed his fingers back over cool metal and sweat slick skin.  
  
“I’m to conclude it was inevitable then?” Lance asked.  
  
Shiro opened his mouth at the side of Lance’s face, his breath hot before he lightly scraped his teeth over Lance’s cheek. it was alluring and terrifying all at once to almost be literally devoured by his mate. Shiro nipped at Lance’s jaw line and ended with a chaste kiss to the mark.  
  
“Not in ten thousand years would I have let you escape me.”  
  
It sent a tremble down Lance’s spine and relaxed him all at once. He belonged somewhere for the first time in his life and yet he was finding the arms of his lover darker every time they reached for him.  
  
“Utterly inevitable,” Shiro repeated with a lick to the underside of Lance’s chin. “Understood?”  
  
Lance nodded.  
  
“Good.”  
  
The purred praise was combining with all the small touches to Lance’s mark and he could feel the steady stream of gooey hormones enter his system now.  
  
“But why?” Lance suddenly shook his head. “Ooooh, none of this makes any sense.” He bemoaned, his hands coming up. He smoothed them over his face.  
  
Shiro chuckled over him then. “Is this your greatest flaw I’m to assume? My prince, the worrier and horribly self-conscious doubter?”  
  
Lance panted a laugh. “I don’t find that funny.”  
  
“I think it’s pretty amusing.” Shiro said anyway.  
  
“Don’t be cruel.”  
  
“You’ve never given me a reason to be.”  
  
Lance pulled his fingers away at that and looked up at Shiro.  
  
It was a shot glass of truth suddenly being swallowed down, Lance realized as he looked at his mate’s face.  
  
It was then that Shiro pushed back up to balance on his knees.  
  
Cautious Lance shifted as well and sat up on his elbows. He was taken by surprise again as Shiro hooked that metal arm back under Lance’s leg and hauled him so far forward he was now in Shiro’s lap.  
  
Shiro’s other hand was at the waistband of his pants, he was undoing them. There was the clink of metal from his belt and his eyes were starting to devour Lance again.  
  
Breath slipped from his grasp again. Lance panicked and his hands scrambled up to stop Shiro. “Please, no.”  
  
There was actual surprise in Shiro’s gaze this time but he stopped. His hands first came up, showing surrender to Lance before falling away.  
  
Lance couldn’t bare it and looked away, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“I’ll wait as long as you need.” Shiro said in a quiet tone. He smoothed his hands over Lance’s thighs still in his lap. “There’s no need to rush. We’ve barely known each other.”  
  
With an expression melting back into troubled, Lance shook his head. “We should have already done this.” He gave an exasperated sigh. “it was expected of us the first night we were together.”  
  
The low hum from Shiro was close again. He hadn’t let Lance leave his lap and was bowing over him, resting his weight on his hands over Lance.  
  
“Fuck them.”  
  
With wide eyes, Lance looked at his mate.  
  
“What?”  
  
That couldn’t have been Shiro. That couldn’t have been his precise and perfect mate just saying that. That was a bad language word and Shiro—Lance was pretty sure he’d never heard Shiro say anything vulgar.  
  
The smile that twisted onto Shiro’s face this time was dark. And—it looked wonderful. To stop himself, Lance’s hand went to cover his own mouth. He wanted to kiss that smile so bad.  
  
“Fuck all of them,” Shiro growled low. “I don’t care about their traditions or their rules—not when it comes to you.” Shiro’s gaze narrowed. “You’re mine. If they wanted to dictate your behavior they shouldn’t have handed you over to me.”  
  
It was—the sudden feeling that Shiro—that Lance was different to Shiro was so overwhelmingly comforting. Lance needily pulled Shiro closer, his hand at Shiro’s neck winding around it.  
  
“Thank you,” Lance breathed before explaining. “Hunk said I should be angry about what happened.”  
  
Shiro nodded. “Is that the prompting of all this?”  
  
“Not all of it.” Lance admitted.  
  
“Will you tell me the rest?” metal fingers glided through the hair at the side of Lance’s face.  
  
“I’d rather not.” Lance admitted more. “It reflects poorly—on everyone involved.”  
  
“Ah,” Shiro let the sound out.  
  
Glancing up, Lance couldn’t help the deep frown. For once, Lance could decipher the look on Shiro’s face. He knew.  
  
“Can-“ Lance hesitantly asked. “Can we stay here? Just for a little longer. I don’t want to go back—“  
  
The hand brushing through Lance’s hair shifted and tipped his face.  
  
“I wish you’d tell me what’s all going on in that beautiful head of yours,” Shiro said to him, his tone and expression taking a turn into concerned.  
  
He couldn’t. And it made Lance feel a trillion times worse.  
  
“I’ve really missed you,” He tried to cover.  
  
Shiro blinked at him. He knew again. There was so much and Lance just couldn’t. Shiro blinked at him. The deflect was so obvious but Shiro expression still turned kind.  
  
“I know.” He rumbled. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me not to really even get to see you every day.”  
  
Lance gave a nervous laugh. “I had no idea a bonding would feel like this.” He gave a weak gesture. “I mean, goddess, how does anyone even function when they can’t have their mate around?”    
  
With a shake of his head, Shiro shifted, sliding down to the floor laying next to Lance. He gave his own sigh. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”  
  
“But you still would have done it.” Lance reiterated Shiro’s words.  
  
“I told you,” Shiro’s gaze bore into Lance. “It was utterly inevitable.”  
  
To prove his point he leaned his head to Lance, and tapped the mark with the tip of his nose. Lance let his eyes drift closed at the intimate contact but he knew Shiro was smiling. It was Lance’s smile too, sweet and gentle. It was everything Lance needed.

 

* * *

 

It was dark out before they snuck back into their bedroom. Once there, Lance could see the tiredness pulling at Shiro’s shoulders. He sighed as the entered the room. The muscles at his neck pulled tight again. Lance’s fingers curled as he thought about approaching his mate and reaching up, kneading the tightness there. He did no such thing—but he thought about it.  
  
Shiro still had a stack of things to read and look through waiting for him and had gotten dressed for bed, setting the pile on the night stand as he started through them. He sat against the headboard, shirtless and in a pair of loose sleep pants, looking over the first report in his lap.  
  
Lance felt a rush of bravery suddenly, looking at how easy his mate was with him.  
  
That was his Alpha sitting there and he’d been so kind to Lance earlier… He was still here with Lance, even after Lance had asked all those embarrassing questions of him.    
  
Lance had his usual loose sleep shirt and cropped soft cotton pants for sleep on but—he looked across the bed at that moment and—He felt like maybe he’d be okay if he…  
  
His hands shook a bit, but Lance grabbed his shirt before he had a chance to change his mind and silently slipped it up over his head.  
  
Shiro’s head was up almost instantly.  
  
The soft shirt was still in Lance’s hands. A rush of shyness made him flush all the way from the tips of his ears to the peaks of his shoulders. Lance hastily shifted his gaze away as he let the shirt drop to the narrow footstool at the bottom of their bed.  
  
When Lance did finally look up through his lashes, he found he had Shiro’s full and complete attention.  
  
There wasn’t much as flattering as having Shiro’s eyes rove over him. Those dark grey eyes washed over him, and pulled him in as Shiro’s mouth dropped open just a bit. His tongue peaked as he licked his lips and his gaze flicked up to meet Lance’s.  
  
It was the first time Lance had really revealed any skin to his mate.  
  
Shiro set the reports down, and started to move forward on the bed.  
  
“I can—“ Lance worriedly stammered. “I mean, I just—“  
  
As Shiro grew closer the difference between them was so vividly apparent. Shiro’s bare chest looked like it was sculpted by the hands of some infinite god. He was well beyond toned—every part of him smooth and marble hard. Not that it should have been a surprise, Shiro had made it clear his strict morning training was not to be interrupted with Black Paladin duties.  
  
And seeing the difference—a work out might do Lance’s scrawny form some good. He was all smooth planes. Hunk had once joked Lance’s waist was so small he might as well be a girl. He didn't have the deep cut V-shape of the other boys or the broad expanse of muscle. It was all just gentle, subtle, smoothness, a slight softness to the descent of his chest. At the very edges of his shoulders were the bright teal shoulder markings. His were very—delicate. A small dot with a radial circle around it and the gentle swoosh reminiscent of his eye markings pointed down his arm as delicate slender lines in the markings took it all the way to just an inch above his elbow. He had corresponding marks at the peaks of his hips and another small trail of celestial circles dotting down his spine, just between his shoulder blades.  
  
It was the same with Lance’s sister as well. The royal bloodline shone in their abundant markings.  
  
Shiro—being common—had no markings apart from the pair of slender dark marks just at the very tips of his cheekbones. Lance liked looking at the tiny marks, reminiscent of wings just under Shiro’s eyes, but watching his partner dress and undress, Lance was aware without saying anything that it was the only markings Shiro bore.  
  
Lance was blushing so furiously red, his hands flew up to his face. “I’ll put it back on.” He mumbled.  
  
That deep rumbling chuckle was so close to him, but Lance still wasn’t looking up from his hands.  
  
“Please don’t,” Shiro spoke close to Lance’s shoulder.  
  
Parting his fingers, Lance peeked up at his Alpha.  
  
The smile that cocked on Shiro’s face was delightfully attractive before Shiro leaned in to press his lips at the peak of Lance’s shoulder.  
  
“I like your freckles.”  
  
And Lance was blushing again.  
  
“Don’t tease me!” He whined.  
  
That smile widened as Shiro shook his head. “I was being honest.” Pulling up into a sitting position before Lance, he sat up straight before him. “Can I touch?” He held out his hands out for Lance to see, broad and outstretched, held out.  
  
“No.” Lance hid back under his fingers.  
  
Shiro leaned in, trying to sneak another peek through Lance’s fingers. “But I’d really like to.”  
  
Finally retracting his fingers, Lance blinked, his fisted hands now just covering his mouth. Very slowly and slightly he looked away but he gave Shiro a small nod.  
  
With a very confident look, Lance wasn’t sure he’d ever seen from his Alpha before, Shiro shuffled closer, his knees brushed either side of Lance’s hips. He smoothed his hands over Lance’s wrists before gently he pulled them away.  
  
“Come on, let me have a look then.”  
  
Reluctant, Lance still complied, letting Shiro tug his arms away, revealing Lance’s bare skin from navel to nose.  
  
Lance twisted his arms around though. Shiro’s gaze connected with his for just a moment before Lance slid his arms down in his hold and intertwined their fingers.  
  
There was a soft smile before Shiro’s gaze fleeted back down over Lance. Lance could feel it again. The feeling of lightning in his veins, it was like he was brushing up against a god of the heavens. He swallowed, trying not to show the rushing nervousness. There was no doubt Shiro already knew, he could probably smell it, but no part of Lance wanted to admit it.  
  
“You’re perfect.” Shiro hummed, he was leaning in too.  
  
Lance was so red he wasn’t sure what to do. He opened his mouth to speak but Shiro seized the opportunity and connected their mouths. It was a hungry but fast kiss as he pulled away with a devious smile  
  
“You’re so perfectly mine,” Shiro hummed lower this time, tone just lightly touching down on a growl.  
  
He released Lance’s hands and grabbed forward, capturing Lance up and wrapping his arms around his middle. It was so—so horribly flattering Lance couldn’t raise protest. Especially with the way Shiro was looking at him. It was like he was telling Lance the honest to god truth about him.  
  
“I’m okay with that,” Lance didn’t realize he said.  
  
Shiro was pulling away then, tugging Lance’s hands along with him. “Come to bed with me.”  
  
There was no reason to deny him, so Lance crawled across the bed with Shiro, letting his Alpha pull them under the sheets, waving his hand so the lights would click off over head. He tugged Lance flush against him, pressing tiny wonderful kisses over Lance’s freckled shoulders.  
  
“You’re so beautiful.” Shiro’s continuous murmured praise had Lance melting over him, pooling in Shiro’s arms and smiling blissfully.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Top Note: We gots ourselves just a few orders of business.  
> 1.Please do not ask for spoilers in the comments. A lot of people have made it clear they read the comments so I will have to keep them spoiler free. I will decline anything pertaining to plot, character background, or ships, any of that stuff must be sent in a Tumblr message or off anon ask, otherwise you’re gonna get the response of, “Spoiler! Sorry, can’t answer that.”  
> 2.I update on Friday’s. No not every Friday, these chapters are way too long for that. And nope, I don’t have a schedule. but if you watch my asks on Tumblr I have a big mouth and will sometimes preemptively give up when a new chapter will be posted.  
> That’s all, enjoy the chapter space kiddios!

  
Lance was being stalked. …and he wasn’t happy about it.

Keith reached so terribly callously and snatched up another scone from across the table. He chewed with his mouth open. His boots were always muddy. His default face was that stubborn unprovoked hatred for the world and everything in it. He had a terrible hair style, for which he seemed to not even worry about! It was always a fucking mess too, no matter what he did or where he was! He had it in this little messy frizzy bun just the other night at court. Lance was appalled and tried to make it clear he did not know the possibly part wolf boy that kept tracking him freaking down every twenty-seconds!

Even now, Lance thought. He was sitting out on the garden terrace, Lance had requested breakfast out there, not wanting to have to see the gloomy looks of every one that would be in the grand hall.

Shiro had even come, it was all going to be perfect! Lance had been served a delicious bowl of moon blossom buns and lion fruit and some sourdough scones. And the gardens were so lovely and Shiro had been smiling at him. They’d had the best nights sleep cuddled together. Lance was still feeling high from the bravery.

He’d come to breakfast, on the terrace, in the gardens, with Shiro, and moon buns — and then Keith had showed up.

Okay minor stumbling block, till Shiro had stood up, telling Lance he should have a good day and kissing him before — he was gone before Lance could even reach for him.

Now he was left alone at breakfast — with the heathen!

“Hey, so I have a question.”

“Why are you here?” Lance beat him to the punch.

Keith gripped the butter knife in his — yup, those looked like fingerless gloves — and pointed it at Lance. “I have already answered that question.”

“I don’t remember that,” Lance shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, maybe someone should start taking notes,” Keith rolled his eyes. “Back to my question.”

Lance didn’t look up from his breakfast. Keith’s questions were never a good thing. The last time — Lance still shivered at the creepy feeling of last time. It had in no way made him feel closer to the werewolf sitting across from him.

“So your friend Hunk-”

“That would be Paladin Hunk,” Lance did not say that in a sing song voice! No, not at all. Because rubbing a higher rank into Keith’s face was not ever fun!

Keith actually rolled his eyes this time before blinking he tried again. “Right, Paladin Hunk.”

“Knowing your place in life is important,” Lance said to Keith in a mockingly, caring voice.

Keith smirked at that. “Right.” He finally finished buttering his scone. “But about him—like what is he?”

Lance narrowed his gaze. “I’m not sure I follow.” He shrugged. “Hunk is Altean. He’s the Yellow Paladin of Voltron.” That was all pretty obvious things. “He’s kind of a big bundle of love and a cook and—“

“No,” Keith deadpanned, “I mean I can’t really smell him. Like I caught a whiff of Alpha on him but like I couldn’t tell if that was his or…” Keith trailed off his brow lowering in confusion.

Lance’s face shot white as he looked around them nervously. “What —“ he shook his head. ”How can you — ?”

Keith gave a nonchalant shrug. “You know most people it’s pretty easy to tell. For instance, Shiro walks in the room and you’re hit with Alpha smell so goddamn hard you almost black out, or you, you have one of the most honey sweet Omega scents I have ever caught a whiff of. It’s like this minty honey too, it’s really different —“

Lance was scrambling around the table and had his hands on Keith's mouth to stop him before he could think of anything else to do.

A flash expression of anger crossed Keith's face before he was fighting Lance off. “Don’t do that!”

“Then don’t try talking about inappropriate things!” Lance hollered back.

Keith cocked his head and displayed his hands in a gesture of, ‘excuse me.’

Lance glanced around them. A couple of servants were giving the two a side look and a guard was snickering. Making a split decision Lance grabbed Keith’s — really ugly jacket — and pulled him away. Once they were back through the gardens and away from prying eyes and ears, Lance turned to Keith.

“I’m a Prince!”

Keith gave an exasperated huff. “Yes, you’ve made that really freaking clear!”

“No.” Lance pointed at the terrace back there. “I meant that.”

“I just asked you what Hunk was!” Keith said like it was such an easy thing.

Lance shook his head. “No. You just asked me about sex! In front of other people!”

Keith’s mouth dropped open. “I did not, in anyway, ask if you and Hunk fucked.”

Lance made an aggravated sound before gathering himself back together. “Look, his gender implies his sexuality!”

Keith blinked at that. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Not like that,” Lance said. He was having trouble finding the right words. “It’s just — it’s not talked about. Not here anyway. Talking about it is in effect pointing out someone’s role in sex — Prince’s can’t talk about sex!” Lance made the last part very clear.

“How the fuck do you guys ever figure anything out then?!” Keith shook his head like it was the most confusing concept in the world.

“You literally just told me I smell like a beehive!” Lance hissed. “It’s pretty easy to put two and two together sometimes.”

Keith was still blinking his way through processing the information. “That sounds horrible.”

Lance crossed his arms. “It’s refined.”

“It sounds confusing.”

“It’s an unseemly topic,” Lance countered. “Besides, why would I need to talk about it?”

“Well —“ Keith paused. “You’re an Omega. Don’t other people need to know about like heats and all that?”

Lance’s mouth dropped open. “Now you’re the one dropping into archaic opinions.”

Keith crossed his arms at that. “It’s a natural occurrence!”

“Oh and so I expect you think I’m some moaning puddle of slick on the floor when it pops up, huh?” Lance shot back. His jaw was set this time as he fisted his hands. “Look, an Omega wants sex when it happens — but it’s not like I’m an uncontrollable animal. I deal with it, like an adult.”

“So you’re on suppressants?” Keith asked as if that answered a question. “That must be why all the Omega’s here are so free to move around.”

“What?” Lance asked incredulous. “Why the hell would I need a suppressant? My hormones are perfectly fine at natural levels.”

“You just said heats are dealt with really easily here!” Keith was the one to sound aggravated this time.

“Yeah.” Lance gave a gesture as if it was not that hard of a concept. “But it’s not like I take extreme measures. It’s an inconvenience for a week or so, but I get through it, knowing all the sex thoughts I’m having are just that, instincts and thoughts, they don’t dictate my behavior.”

Keith blinked. “So what about the Alphas?”

“You mean like when an Alpha goes into rutt?”

“Yes — well no,” Keith thought about it before clarifying. “Well, one question at a time, I mean when you’re in heat, what about all the Alpha’s around you?”

Lance shrugged. “What about them?”

Keith looked appalled. “So you just flaunt your heat around for them?!”

“Why the hell would I flaunt that fact?!” Lance growled back. “It’s disgusting!”

“Oh, trust me to an Alpha, disgusting is not the word to describe it.” Keith crossed his arms again. “How are they expected to deal with that here?”

Lance’s mouth dropped open. “Are you — they’re still people, Keith!” He shook his head. “An Alpha is expected to deal with it like a thinking person with higher cognitive functions. Just because someone is an Alpha doesn’t mean that can jump some Omega in heat like a dog.”

That actually looked like it caught Keith off guard. He looked at Lance so strangely then, eyeing him up and down.

Lance wanted to ask about where Keith had such a notion about how an Omega was treated — but a part of him… he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Where are you from, Keith?” the question just bubbled up.

Keith straightened. “Me and Shiro are from the same place. We’re the same race, Varrin.”

Varrins were Alteans, only inhabitants of the Altean system instead of Altea it self. They were the colonizers. Varr was the moon of Altea and out of the two, the only inhabitable moon.

Varr had a long history, but most recently had caused uproars over representation on Altea for Varrian interests opposed to Altean.

The way Keith frowned at the question tugged at his deep red eye markings. It was the first time Lance had really looked at them as well. They were strange, such a vivid red he’d never seen besides just being two dots on either side with small slashes underneath. Lance's markings were traditional for the Altean royal family, nearly identical to his sister’s and Father’s. And then Shiro's markings – they were two ticked markings at the peaks of his cheekbone, like tiny wings, but like Keith's they were deep in color not the luminescent neons of the royals.

Lance frowned. He’d only been to Varr once, but it wasn’t like what Keith was describing.

“Don’t do anything you’ve described to an Omega here,” Lance blurted again.

Keith blinked at him.

“I mean it, Keith.” Lance said. “It seems — it sounds like wherever you’re from — it has a completely different system than here. Omegas here — they're not like that.”

Keith’s brow creased. “I’m not suggesting Omegas or Alphas are purely instinctual driven animals. I still seek consent from an Omega before.”

Lance nodded. “I know. But it’s different here. Second gender isn’t important here.”

Keith gave a sigh. “That just sounds like it makes life so much harder.”

Lance couldn’t agree with that. It made his life so much easier really.

“Like really you guys do that to an Alpha? You’d let him be around an Omega in heat and expect him to act like nothing is going on?”

Lance tipped his head. “Why would I expect anything different from them? Wanting something you can’t have isn’t the end of the world.”

“You make it sound like an Alpha following instincts is just petty!” Keith finally snarled.

“Well what would you call it?” Lance said. “It works both ways. When I’m in heat, I would love an Alpha around but I’m not going to do that to someone, that would _make me petty._ ”

“You all are seriously repressed.” Keith huffed.

Lance shrugged. “I guess you could look at it that way.” He couldn’t help but point out. “But when an Omega has a heat here we don’t sentence them to a kennel.” He shook his head. “Personal responsibility for your actions isn’t petty.”

“Right.” Keith rolled his eyes. “But talking about any of it is so — unrefined!”

“I’m not saying we’re perfect,” Lance hissed.

“No,” Keith snarled back. “you just implied that you’re better than me.”

With a huff he was stalking off before Lance could do anything.

“Ouuugghhh,” Lance bemoaned. “That’s not what I meant…” Well if he was lucky he wouldn’t have a stalker any more.

 

* * *

 

“Paladin Shiro, “ One of the older councilman said. “You are aware, there are certain—traditions to picking a new Paladin of Voltron.”

The council halls were for once in use. The Paladins all sat at the curved table. Lance was normally seated at the very edge of the table, but one look from Shiro let him know he was going to be sitting next to him. Now at Shiro’s direct left Lance wasn’t sure he wanted to be there.

Especially since opposite to them sat the Altean High Council.

At the other end of the table was one empty seat.

Yarl had barely stuck around long enough for a ceremony of release, and now the Council was just sitting around looking at his empty chair.

“I realize.” Shiro’s voice was grating into a growl.

Lance could feel Shiro’s agitation. They’d already been in the room for over an hour talking with the council. After his talk with Keith, Lance couldn’t help but notice the scents in the room at that moment. Shiro’s was the most prominent but he would always be after the bonding, and he was not happy.

“But picking from a handful of candidates seems unwise when we have the option to open it up to the public.”

Iso sat at Shiro’s right and with his arms crossed he gave a huff. “Just because your own choosing was unconventional doesn’t mean we need to undo all this team has worked for.”

“I don’t think being open to try something new is particularly a bad thing.” Hunk spoke from where he sat next to Lance.

Lance frowned.

Hunks own choosing had been unconventional. The Yellow Lion had literally just shown up at his house over night after the death of the old yellow paladin.

The only two in the room that had been chosen through conventional methods was Lance and Iso.

There was a thumbing purr of reassurance in Lance’s mind. He frowned deeper. He knew what Blue was trying to say. Even if it had been open to the public she still would have picked him.

But Lance had been in contact with the Blue Lion—gosh since he was just small. Even way before the Blue Paladin was dead, Lance had felt Blue’s presence. Lance’s father had always told Lance he quite possibly had the strongest connection with his lion that he had ever seen.

“The way we have always done things has always bore out to produce a strong and worthy Paladin,” Iso argued back. He was glaring at Hunk.

“Prince Lance,” One of the councilman asked. “You’ve been rather withdrawn. What do you think? How should we, in Your Highnesses opinion, go about choosing the next Green Paladin?”

Lance’s frown only deepened. That question was framed entirely the wrong way. They were trying to use Lance’s royal ties as a swaying point to their side.

Lance opened his mouth but blinking rapidly, he wasn’t sure what to say.

The traditional way of doing things had clearly worked, especially in Lance’s favor — but Lance’s eyes shifted to Shiro. He wouldn’t have found — if Black hadn’t busted through all of their rules and traditions Lance would have never met Shiro.

Shiro gave Lance a slight nod, as if to say, ‘It’s okay, say whatever you think. It won't hurt me.’

Lance couldn’t do that to his mate though so licking his lips nervously Lance said as he looked away at his hands. “I’m sure there’s some kind of compromise we can reach with this.”

Iso made a sound of dismissal.

But Lance still continued. “I don’t think letting the public have access to the lion is exactly a bad idea. Widening our pool of candidates can never be a bad thing,” he looked to Shiro. “Right?”

Shiro gave another nod, but this time the meaning was much less clear.

“We already have the five candidates ready.” A councilmen spoke. “If the green lion did not pick on its own there is no reason to think the most worthy is outside of our candidates. I assure you we compile a list of the most qualified.”

“Was Shiro on your list for Black?”

Startled, Lance realized it was Hunk that had said that.

“Was I ever on your list?” As always Hunk’s compassionate nature shone through but there was a punch to his words to accompany.

“We’re on the brink of war with the Galra!” Iso hissed. “We can’t leave this matter in the hands of the populous!”

“We would technically be leaving it in the hands of the divine.” Shiro’s brow moved in.

“What would be so wrong with having someone at random chosen?“ Hunk chimed in.

The Paladins of Voltron was for the first time Lance knew composed of at least half natural chosen and that was clearly begging a change. And Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d always known the council to basically pick the next Paladins of Voltron, and thus far that had never steered them wrong. But — but the Black Lion had chosen someone unexpected and given Lance Shiro, The Yellow had given Lance his best friend… The new additions had only enhanced their team from Lance’s perspective.

“What if we widened the number of possible candidates?” Lance tried to mediate. He knew the Acolytes would never budge on a ceremonial choosing. This was still Altea after all. Everything was ceremony.

“And who would be vetting these candidates?” One councilman asked.

“I would,” Shiro chimed in.

Blinking, Lance looked over at his mate. As if Shiro didn’t have enough to do with the King unable to serve and Altea in a chaotic state.

“I can make sure we bring those you deem worthy but also bring a new perspective to it, look outside the council's normal scope,” Shiro continued.

Hunk next to Lance gave a solid nod, clearly satisfied.

At least one of them was. Iso on Shiro’s right crossed his arms over his chest. His body language spoke enough that he wasn’t in favor. Though Lance could still smell the tinge in the air of an agitated Alpha.

“And how many candidates will we present?” A council man continued to push. “Will five more do? will twenty? It will make no difference if the Paladin chosen is that from the council's pool.”

Shiro’s chin raised just slightly.

Wishing Lance was closer to Shiro, he would have extended his hand out to him if he could have. He knew the narrowing of those eyes. He’d seen it in the arena, he’d seen it when Allura had entered the ring. ..

“We will just have to see then, won’t we,” Shiro said. There was an edge of stubbornness in his words Lance hadn’t ever heard from him. “I’ll make it even. I’ll contribute five more candidates to the pool. It’s completely fair that way.”

Shiro was already standing, marking the dismissal of the Paladins and the council men.

“If that will satisfy the council on this matter, I have plenty of other things to get to, and have spent far too long on this matter already.”

Lance winced at Shiro’s words. He quickly stood as well.

But before Lance could even step closer to Shiro, the Black Paladin was off at a swift stride again. Coran was keeping up quickly and handing Shiro the next order of business on the docket as they walked. Shiro stopped for just a moment issuing orders to the captain of the guard. It was something Lance didn’t fully catch, probably setting a watch on the Green Lion in the hangars. Before Shiro even left the room his head was tipped down to look over the data pad in his hands.

“Lance?”

Turning, Lance saw Hunk looking at him. His hands were fidgety before him as he stepped closer to Lance.

“Look buddy,” Hunk tried to start. He looked down awkwardly. “About the other day, at the Spring Day festivals…”

Lance lit up as he remembered. “Hunk, No—“ He held up his hands. “It was totally my bad, I overreacted.”

“Well,” Hunk tipped his head. “I’m not gonna say you didn’t, but look man,” He gave Lance his characteristic easy smile. “It was partly my fault too.”

He gave a hesitant gesture to the door. “I never meant to imply anything about Shiro.” He frowned, scratching the back of his head, “Or the princess Allura.”

Lance waved it off. “No-no!” He looked around. The room had cleared and it was just the two of them. “Look, I actually talked to Shiro kind of about it.” He scratched at his neck. “And you’re right, I think. There’s some stuff I gotta work out with all this.”

Hunk blinked. “I never meant —“

“I know!” Lance rushed in. “It’s just —“ Lance wasn’t sure how to explain it. “Thank you for pushing me.” He landed on. “You’re right. There are some questions I should be asking and haven’t been, not till you made me look at all this with a different lens.”

Hunk tried to be subtle about it, but the big guy was never really subtle about much as he glanced around the room. This wasn’t the place to have any sort of private conversation. There were too many places to hide. Too many ways for someone to hear.

“If you need me…” Hunk trailed.

Lance shook his head. “I don’t have any answers yet.” He gave a smile though. “But I’m asking because you pushed me.” Lance stepped forward and rest his hand at Hunk’s arm for just a moment.

When Lance turned to leave, Hunk grabbed at his hand. “I’m here you know. Whenever you need anything, I’m here.”

It was typical Hunk. Lance just smiled before letting his friend pull him into a bear hug.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Lance still managed to evade a good portion of anyone that might want anything from him. Wandering between the pillars leading back out to the garden terrace, Lance knew it would be deserted and nothing sounded better then seeing the moon flowers burst open as Varr and Mai showed their faces over head.

Shiro had been absent from dinner, which didn’t surprise Lance. His sister had been there though, talking with the men around her in hushed and serious tones.

Communications between the Altean and the Galra were becoming heated and strenuous. Lance had eaten as quickly as possible before as always employing his best tactic of running from his problems.

Between the vast and towering pillars, Lance could see that Varr was already visible through the clouds. It’s milky white appearance due to its thick atmosphere was lovely.

Lance smiled as he stopped , resting a hand on a pillar as he looked at it. A thought occurred to him suddenly. That’s where Keith had said Shiro was from. Lance wondered what it was like. The one time Lance had been to Varr it had been cold. So very cold! He’d spent the entire trip in five layers and a parka.

It was subtle but Lance turned, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. He was thinking of Shiro so the wind must be playing tricks on him. But as he concentrated, Lance realized—there was murmuring. He could hear… his mate. Lance knew the feeling. That voice played him like a harp. Turning, he drifted to another pillar closer to the Garden Terrace.

“Keith this isn’t the time for you to get all self righteous.” Shiro’s voice held annoyance.

“Look, he was an ass to me this morning!” Keith groaned. “So I didn’t keep tabs on him one day.” He seemed to change his mind. “It would have been stranger after the argument we had if I had persisted.”

“Then try following at a distance,” Shiro growled in return. “You’ve ran reconnaissance before, don’t try to pass off to me that you don’t know how.”

Keith made an aggravated sound. “I don’t know why you’re even having me bother!”

“He’s the Prince of Altea!”

Lance was suddenly frozen where he stood. His heart started to pound in his ears. His hand on the stone pillar felt incredibly distant.

“Ha!” Keith’s laugh was so full of mocking it grated across Lance’s spine horribly unpleasant, early enough to crumble him. “That stuck up little pompous prick, he can't think past his own nose I don't know how you expect—“

The growl from Shiro at that moment was so visceral It stopped Lance’s breath. He physically flinched at the sound his eyes squeezing shut for just a few seconds. His Omega brain even supplied a healthy dose of, <i>submit, submit, submit.</i> But Lance stayed where he was, opening his eyes as he looked back up. He couldn’t see them. They sounded close, just around the pillar on the terrace possibly.

It was several long seconds of silence then.

“Shiro,” Keith’s voice was back to normal levels. “This is getting in very deep.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“This will end.” Keith went on. “The pieces are already laid out on the board. You can’t expect —”

What ever stopped Keith in that moment, Lance wasn’t sure. He didn’t dare move closer to see. The growl from Shiro — it still echoed in his ears. It had been — it wasn’t a sound he’d ever heard before.

The silence stretched out a few more ticks before Shiro spoke.

“I need you to keep watch over him.” Shiro’s voice was calm as ever. “You’re right, things are heating up fast. There are unknown variables we have to rule out. I need a watch on him.”

Keith gave a huff. But after a tick. “Fine. But I hate it, I just want you to know that.”

Shiro gave his own sigh before a chuckle. “Have you considered trying to be nice to him?”

“He basically told me he was better than me today!” Keith growled back, but it was banter, there was a playfulness to it. “Why would I be nice to a person like that?”

“I’m sure that wasn’t a one-sided development —“ Shiro was playfully accommodating the banter.

Keith interrupted with a huff. “Do you have any idea how much indulgent time he spends?”

“I’m sure to you, quite a lot of his behavior seems indulgent.”

“He goes to these gardens everyday!” Keith growled. “And I don’t know what the fuck he even does here!”

Shiro’s voice was a smooth playfulness this time. “I could be wrong, but it’s quite possible he enjoys it here.”

“There's nothing to do here! Except get lost! He just wanders around, and he’s got this look on his face like he’s trying to think but his brain too small to manage it. And do you know how hard it is to keep track of him in these gardens? Their designed impossibly hard to navigate.”

“Keith,” it was a warning tone.

Keith gave another growling huff. “You should know though…”

In the pause, Lance was finding it hard to breathe again.

“The Princess Allura was here with him the other day.” Keith went on, his voice slipping into a tone of all business. “I couldn’t get close enough without being spotted by one of her guards, but whatever they talked about it made them both pretty angry. Lance left at practically a run and his sister — I wouldn’t have wanted to be in her way when she stormed back to the palace.”

There was a pause before Shiro spoke up. “He told me something had happened.” Another short pause probably because Shiro was moving, giving a gesture or a expression. Whatever it was it was lost on Lance’s end.

The absence of seeing body language at that moment hit Lance. He never realized how much he relied on it before.

“If something like it happens again — let it play out. It could bare some information we need out. ”

Lance could almost hear a smug smirk in Keith's words. “I figured that’s the route you’d wanna take.”

Shiro gave another rumbling chuckle.

“You know,” Keith started. “I’m glad you asked me to come.”

Lance’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“I needed someone I trust.” There was a pause. “If there’s anyone in the universe I should be able to trust — it would be you.”

Lance was grateful at that moment his shoes were the soft supple leather ones he forgot to change before heading for the gardens. They were particularly silent and as he backed away he couldn’t pick up any sound from his sliding footsteps.

Keith was speaking again, mumbling something about Shiro going soft. There was a growled reply Lance couldn’t make out.

Because Lance was already escaping.

Once he was a good four pillars away he broke into a run, aiming for the first set of steps down to the gardens he wound around through the hedges and walk ways before he was certain this time he was alone.

His hands went to his face as he tried to process. His mate — Keith was really stalking him? Shiro had ordered it? Goddess, not an ounce of anything was making sense anymore.

Lance took up the first bench he came across, looking down at his shaking hands. “How could—“ His hand clamped around his mouth as he realized he’d uttered the words out loud.

As he looked across the gardens his sister's words came to mind.

_it feels as if the world has been tipped upside down doesn’t it?_

_Upside down and set on fire._

Lance blinked he could feel the heat now. He’d been joking then, but now — he wrapped his arms around himself trying to calm his breathing.

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure he could go back to their rooms. What was Lance to say to Shiro? He was having him followed? That was — it was ridiculous, is what it was! There was no reason?

Did Shiro not trust Lance?

But over what? Lance hadn’t done anything!

Lance quickly found his feet were carrying him back through the palace, and down through the winding steps to the hangars. It was dark. The bowels of the palace may be the home of the great lions of Voltron, but they weren’t exactly well traveled.

The soft blue lights overhead, smoothly followed Lance’s progress. It reminded Lance who he was. Everything in this castle was meant to answer his beck and call. It was all attuned to his whims. His life force was fused with this place, with his people.

“Your highness?”

Lance looked up, his own revelries had kept him from noticing a couple of guards stopped just ahead of him. One was tall, solidly built but slender. The other was more compact, and much shorter. They wore red allegiance armor.

They looked at each other for a moment before back at Lance. “What are you doing down here?”

“I —“ Lance shook his head. “I’m here on my own business.” It was a brisk answer, but he wasn’t in the mood to humor anyone.

Stepping to the side, Lance meant to continue around them, until a guard blocked his path.

“Maybe we should escort you back to the main halls?” A guard asked.

Lance shot back with an expression of disbelief. Was this really happening? “No, no.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’m quite fine, thank you.”

“My lord,” the other guard tried to reason. “It’s late. I’m sure Paladin Shiro is expecting you back in your rooms, yes?”

Lance was a Prince, not a child. And his chin tipped up at that moment as he looked at the two guards. “Pardon me? What does Paladin Shiro have to do with me being down here?”

The short guards looked nervous at that. “I — I didn’t mean…”

“Are you here on his orders?” Lance lowered his brow as he spoke. His hands fisted at his sides.

“We are here on strict orders.” The taller one, the one blocking Lance’s path, said. “No one is to be down with the Lions.”

Lances brow furrowed even further. “I am the Blue Paladin!” He hissed. “If I want to be down here with my lion, I have full right to be.”

“Sir, I really think you should return back upstairs.” It was the tall one again. He had a set expression.

“Pac,” The smaller one said in quiet tone.

Lance shook his head and went to step around them again. “This is ridiculous,” He waved them off. “If I want to see my lion it’s fully in my right to do so.”

A hand snatched out then, startling Lance as it latched onto his arm.

“Please excuse me, Your Highness,” The tall one said, pulling Lance a step back. “But I need to escort you back up to the main hall.”

Lance was so in shock — no one… No one was allowed to touch him.

No one except Shiro.

This man’s touch was nothing — it was nothing like Shiro’s. Shiro’s big hands, even that metal hand was always so gentle with Lance, even when Lance had been writhing in agony in Shiro’s lap, He’d never roughly grabbed him. He’d never hurt him with his touch.

He was pulled along, almost reaching the stairs even before Lance came back to him. Setting his jaw, he wrenched his arm away from the guard.

“Excuse you,” Lance hissed. “But I did not give you permission to handle me in anyway.”

The guard narrowed his gaze. “I don’t think you understand, Your Highness.”

Lance narrowed his own gaze. “My understanding isn’t the issue here. It’s yours. I’m —“ before he could finish the guard had him again and was yanking Lance up the stairs.

“I’m escorting you back to your room, Your Highness.”

Lance was completely speechless, and he was forced to stumble up the stair all the way up into the main halls.

“Let go of me!” He finally managed. He yanked back, almost tumbling down a few stairs but managed to hold his balance.

The second guard was approaching quickly. “You have to understand, Your Highness, we can’t let anyone down here.”

Lance shook his head. “I’m the prince!”

And it felt like it was a concept that was meaning less every time he said it.

There was a guard on both sides this time and Lance found himself very forcefully hauled up the stairs.

“I’m sorry, your highness,” the shorter spoke.

Lance stumbled out into the main hall, before he thrust his elbow out, catching the shorter one on the chin and pulling away.

“Don’t touch me,” Lance hissed.

The guard gave a yelp and clutched at his face.

The other was much stronger though and his grip on Lance’s arm constricted to neigh painful. “Just a little farther, my <i>Prince.</i>” He hissed the last like it was an insult.

This—none of this had ever… Lance had never even considered any of this happening. This wasn’t—

Giving a snarl, Lance stumbled back and yanked himself back from the guard. “Let go of me.” The words echoed in the now vast halls. From farther down the hall near the throne room entrance another guard’s interest was piqued. They were close to the entryway hall, on the other side. Lance could hear the water of the fountain even.

“Please sir,” it was the shorter one, his chin was red, at least it looked like Lance had left a bruise possibly. “Just let us escort you to your rooms, Your Highness.”

Lance shook his head at the guard.

He was seized again by the taller one then. Hands on both his arms, he was directed to the hallways leading to the royal quarters. Before the guard tried to reach back around Lance, reach back to the back of his neck…

Lance struggled away quickly this time, ducking the head and skittering out of the guards hold on him. “I said don’t touch me!” he hissed. His footing widened, his mind finally working its way into a combative state. He knew how to fight—he’d been taught since he was young. This would simply be his first—his first time needing it.

The taller guard was clearly seeing red as he glared at Lance. “You’re to return to your rooms,” he said low his voice dipped into a tone very familiar.

Lance realized then, horribly. He was facing an Alpha. The scent wafting off him was unmistakable. He stepped forward and made no attempt at hiding it this time as he reached for Lance’s neck.

Lance stepped back, shaking his head.

This was also the first time—Lance felt nothing but revulsion for the Alpha before him. The Acolytes hadn’t been wrong, Lance’s new mark was now only attuned to one. And it wasn’t the sorry man standing before Lance.

“What’s going on here?” It was—Lance blinked a couple of times.

Keith was looking at the guard with narrowed eyes. His approach was casual enough, though his gait had picked up as his eyes flicked to Lance and he zeroed in.

“Pardon us,” It was the shorter guard. “His Highness isn’t feeling well, we’re just returning him to his rooms.”

“Lance?” Keith’s gaze pinpointed to Lance. “Is that true?”

For once, Lane felt no urge to correct Keith. He was panting, his heart racing and loud in his ears. He opened his mouth but nothing would come so in the end he just shook his head, not breaking eye contact with Keith.

Keith gave a curt nod and turned, hollering down the hallway to one of the King’s Guards standing near the entryway. “Get me Shiro,” His voice reminded Lance of Shiro’s then, grating so close to a growl the words rumbled in a way only an Alpha could produce.

“That’s unnecessary,”

A grappling hand was suddenly at the back of Lance’s neck, The guard was pinching his fingers hard at the base of Lance’s skull—searching…

Lance let out a cry, but before he could even move— there was a whoosh and grating snarl as the guard was thrown back. In an instant, Keith was taking a fighter's stance between Lance and the two guards.

“He said don’t touch him,” Keith’s voice was still low.

There were two more Kings Guard stepping up.

“Your Highness?” One asked. “Are you alright?”

“I’m—“ Lance’s arm went up to his face, pressing the back of his palm to his mouth. He was so unsure. “I’m fine.”

“Take these two into custody.” Keith’s voice boomed into his own full Alpha tone. Keith didn’t look away from his glare at the two. “Their conduct has been entirely inappropriate.”

The two new Kings Guard exchanged looks before flanking Keith, both narrowing their gaze as they approached the two Red Allegiance guards.

“Wait,”

Lance jerked so hard he gasped.

Striding in from the entryway, flanked by his own set of Black Allegiance Guards was Shiro. He wore another deep black cloak around his shoulders, making his already imposing stature even more pronounced.

His long strides took him straight to Lance.

“Lance, what happened?” Shiro raised his hand and reached for Lance.

It was unintentionally, but Lance flinched a step away. He felt —he was so—this man was another Alpha. Lance felt utterly surrounded by them.

Luckily, Shiro seemed to recognize what ever was going on and slowly he lowered his hands, keeping them where Lance could still see them.

“Keith.” It wasn’t a question. Shiro jerked his head to his friend.

As if from some script, Keith immediately launched into a full mission report. “I just shortly arrived, but from what I could tell these men were trying to escort His Highness back to his rooms. Unfortunately for them, Lance didn’t want to go. He ordered them to ‘let him go,’ and they disobeyed.” Keith turned his head to Shiro then, his brow lowering. “The horse faced one also reached for your mate’s secondary glands, probably in an effort to placate him.”

The slow turn of Shiro’s head was chilling. Under a thick brow, his eyes lit with an emotion Lance hadn’t seen from Shiro thus far.

“Lance,” Shiro didn’t turn to him as he asked. His eyes were trained on the Red guards now cornered. “Is that all that happened?”

Swallowing, Lance wasn’t sure at that moment what he wanted. What ever he was about to say, it would determine the fate of the men before him. With a rush of air, Lance tried to pick a road hopefully less likely to get someone killed.

“They were ordered to keep everyone from downstairs, to not allow anyone in to the hangars and near the lions.” Lance gulped at air. “It was me. I wanted to see Blue.” He knew he was rambling a bit, but he felt a great need to explain himself. “I just really needed to see her, and be with her and —I tried to push back at them to get through to Blue. They were following orders.”

The answer didn’t seem to satisfy Shiro.

“Get them to their knees,” Shiro growled as he prowled a step closer, he was already holding out his hand and Keith near him was presenting a long dagger with a jagged edge.

Lance hurried forward, sliding in between the Red guards and his mate. “No, Shiro.”

Tipping his head down to his mate, Shiro opened his mouth after a moment, looking as if he was to say something.

“Paladin Shiro!”

They all looked up to see the Princess Allura stepping closer.

This was drawing far more attention than Lance had intended. He almost hid his face in his hands at that moment.

“Princess,” Shiro acknowledged.

“What’s going on?”

Lance turned his face away. He didn’t want to answer that question anymore, especially since he felt like he didn’t know. He’d lost so much control over the whole situation.

It was a King’s Guard to speak up. “His Royal Highness the Prince was accosted by two guards stationed in the lion hangars.”

Lance winced. Accosted wasn’t exactly the word for it. But now that he was looking around. They’d attracted several courtiers and noble men and women. They were rather close to the throne rooms, it was only logical the commotion would spark interest.

“Lance,” Allura said in a tone that clearly indicated she wasn’t pleased. “What did you do?”

Lance winced. He turned his head towards his sister but didn’t look up. “I just wanted to go down to the hangars.”

Allura crossed her arms. “Until the Green Lion has been presented with the new Paladin candidates, the hangars are off limits.” she sighed. “You should know that.”

Shiro’s hand was steady and moved slow as it touched down on Lance’s shoulder, drawing him in. “What business would the Blue Paladin have with the Green Lion?”

Lance welcomed the embrace possibly more than he should have and stepped closer. The idea of hiding in Shiro’s arms was far too appealing.

“Exactly, nothing.” Allura concluded. “Lance, you should have just left when you were asked—“

“I meant, there’s no reason he should have been stopped.” The chilling tone in Shiro’s voice was evident. “If you would please, Princess,” Shiro went on. “I was just about to issue punishment.”

Allura blinked. “Paladin,” She stammered. “We have courts—there are procedures!”

“One of them touched Lance’s secondary glands.” Keith hissed. “They’ve violated his highness express orders to not touch him and tried to even take it a step farther. That’s an insult to Shiro as well. It’s his place to deal out punishment.”

The hallway was deathly quiet at that moment. Allura stood stalk still a few feet away, her gaze on Shiro.

“Shiro,” Lance grasped at his mate’s dark cloak. “I’m fine.” he finally looked up at him. “They didn’t hurt me.”

Shiro blinked at him for a moment, his expression precisely unreadable.

“What punishment would you see fit?” He asked with a controlled expression still.

For the first time since he’d entered into this mess, Lance felt like an easy breath left him. “Suspend them, send them home.”

The nod Shiro gave was very careful, controlled. He shifted to look at a noble men standing near. “General Tsai?”

The man had a narrow gaze, much like every other Alpha in the room. “Paladin Shiro,” It was a warm greeting, a greeting of solidarity despite being respectful.

“This is our Prince,” Shiro gestured to Lance, as if presenting him. “As his mate, I find I don’t always have a clear head when thinking about anything that concerns him, would you advise I do as His Highness suggests? Would you let them go home?”

The general seemed to consider before he looked Shiro in the eye as he spoke. “No, Paladin, I wouldn’t.”

Lance suddenly felt very pale. He swallowed. And his fingers clambered at Shiro’s uniform. “Sh-shiro,” he tried again, but his voice cracked. The arena flashed in Lance’s mind. The way Shiro had so mercilessly powered through every victory…

Shiro’s gaze flicked down to Lance for just a moment before looking back up.

“Paladin Shiro,” Allura took another step forward.

She was silenced as Shiro raised his hand.

Silence fell over the entire hall immediately.

How quickly he had taken complete charge of the room and exactly when, was a mystery to Lance. Especially since the remains of the royal family was standing right there.

“I’ll give you a compromise.” His tone suggested he was speaking to everyone, but his eyes were on Lance.

His gaze fleeted up to Keith then. “How many times did Lance tell them not to touch him?”

“I heard him say it twice.” Keith supplied.

Shiro gave a shallow nod. “Alright,” He tipped his head down to Lance. He pushed his hand up into Lance’s and interlaced their fingers, pulling them up to press his lips to Lance’s knuckles. “They can go home.” His bone-cold tone made it clear they were never to return to the palace again either. He turned his gaze up to the King’s men around them. “After a hand is removed from each of them.”

“Shiro,” Lance desperately gasped for air as he tried to step closer and into his mates arms. “That’s—that’s too far.”

Shiro tipped his head. “No.”

He looked to Keith. His gaze, this time Lance could read the small message transpired. If Lance was watched before his steps would be utterly hounded now.

“It was my fault,” Lance tried again. “Allura was right, I shouldn’t have gone down there. If I just—if I had taken two-seconds to think this wouldn’t have happened.”

Shiro was already pulling Lance off to the side of him, though. He looked down at him at Lance’s desperate outburst.

“They didn’t—“ Lance shook his head. He looked to the two Red guards. They were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs. The smaller one looked utterly terrified. “I’m not hurt, They don’t deserve this.”

Shiro raised his hand to Lance’s chin, brushing his fingers under Lances jaw, skimming over the mark.

“I don’t care.” Shiro’s said in a strikingly calm voice. “They touched you.” He shook his head like that it was a completely obvious concept. “That’s unacceptable.”

He looked to the King’s Guard then, sliding Lance out of his arms and depositing him near Coran. “See that my Prince is taken care of. He’s been quite upset.”

Coran nodded and Shiro turned back to the King’s Guard, his shoulders squaring as he strode. “I’ll oversee their punishment. Let’s get on with it.”

The men were pulled to their feet and franticly one tried to break free only to be forcefully shoved in the direction of the entryway.

Lance just stood there, feeling Coran hover closer to him. saying quiet things like, “It’s alright, Your Highness.” Lance also noticed Keith. He hung back, already starting to hover but blending back through the crowd of courtiers. As Shiro and his associated guard left the chatter was already staring up.

Across from them all, Lance looked up to see his sister.

She looked stunned. Her eyes flicked up to look at Lance.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

She was angry.

With no further adua, she turned on her heels and was leaving, taking a good portion of the courtiers with her at a much slower pace.

“That man is what this kingdom needs.” A man in a stately military uniform said to his shorter wife.

The woman scolded him with a shushing sound.

They were behind Lance, off to his side and he could hear other soft murmuring as well. None of it was—it was all in support.

Another man persisted. “With everything going on,” he snorted. “At least there’s someone willing to do the things that need done in this castle.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen royal law so swiftly executed.”

“That Black Paladin isn’t a man I’d quarrel with, and we may be better off for it.”

Lance closed his eyes and turned to face Coran.

“I want to go down to see Blue.”

If Lance was seeking of her gentle purr before he was desperate for it now.

“Absolutely, Your Highness.” Coran gave a brisk nod and quickly cleared the way for them down to the stairs again leading down to the hangars.

Lance knew that Keith was keeping his distance but he shifted subtly as Lance passed him. He’d be pursuing after him probably at the first opportunity. Lance couldn’t find it in him though to fight it, to confront the issue. It wasn’t like his life already wasn’t constantly watched.

“Coran?” Lance asked as they were finally alone, trailing down the halls.

Coran stopped next to him. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Who issued the orders that no one was allowed down in the hangars?” Lance didn’t lift his eyes. “After the council meeting this morning, who issued those orders?”

Coran blinked, he stalled for just a moment before answering after clearing his throat. “Paladin Shiro, of course.”

Lance nodded. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to do anything else. “Thank you, Coran.” He waved a dismissal gesture. “I think I’ll be fine from here on my own from here.” Keith was probably only a few steps away as it was.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art Foundry 
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance Sketch by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future reference an Alpha Call sounds like mix of [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ksr0-H1gmI) and [this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lkg7_6iaPdYI)
> 
> If you've ever been around an Emu booming, it's way hard to capture with a microphone since it's so low, but that mixed with a chuff is exactly what is what Shiro's Alpha call sounds like.

Lance couldn't stay gone forever. It was already evening when he had collapsed into the Blue lion. A few hours later and even Blue was nudging him to return to his room. It was soft urging, a hummed reminder of the still beating bond between Shiro and he. And from the bond, what Lance could feel of it — everything going on around them hadn’t affected it. It was possibly stronger. Lance felt like it was a tight  cable anchoring him to Shiro. Lance would have to face Shiro sooner or later and Blue made it clear Lances best option was to make it sooner. 

 

So when Lance entered their quarters he was startled to find Shiro. He sat on the bed, narrow eyes staring at Lance. The room was dark except for a small side lamp on in their entryway. 

 

Lance turned away as he lightly shut their door, securing it as he took a deep breath and turned. 

 

“Shiro…” Lance trailed as he stepped into their main sitting room. 

 

Shiro was already up off the bed and his bare feet made thumping footsteps as he charged straight to Lance’s direction meeting him halfway. 

 

“I —“ Lance wasn’t sure what he was gonna say, what there even was to say. 

 

But he never got a chance, the moment Shiro was in range of Lance he ducked and slammed their mouths together. 

 

Startled, Lance sputtered out a cry only to have it swallowed as Shiro pulled at Lance’s jacket, backing them up into the bedroom. 

 

Lance whined but did as he was urged. Following Shiro into the room, His fingers curled into the black long sleeve training shirt Shiro wore. 

 

Shiro was smashing his lips to Lance’s again, in another hungry kiss. His breath was ragged and audible as he nipped across Lance’s lips before smoothing them together again. 

 

Letting his eyes flick closed, Lance could smell the sweat from Shiro. He could smell something else though something that made him gag… 

 

At the jerk from Lance, Shiro pulled away. 

 

Lance looked down at their carpet, the smell, now that he’d identified it left a coppery tang in his mouth. He pressed the back of his hand over his lips. 

 

“You did it yourself, didn’t you?” Lance, as always, couldn’t seem to stem the stream of words that flowed from his mouth around Shiro. “You — you cut them off yourself.” 

 

Shiro just hummed, his voice low as he stepped back closer to Lance, this time his hands were insistent in the same way his lips had been just a moment ago. His hands slid under Lance’s jacket, starting to push it down and away from his shoulders. 

 

Letting it happen, Lance held his arms out to accommodate. It was a strong hand at his throat, forcing him to look up that finally drew his attention back to Shiro. His pupils were blown, leaving Shiro’s eyes dark, bottomless pits. Lance couldn’t make any emotion out as Shiro swooped in again and they were kissing. The wet sound of their tongues molding together made Lance whine. His hands shook as they went to Shiro’s arm. He still held Lance by the throat, like an empty threat. His hand was just there, not hurting Lance, not even rubbing a thumb or finger against his glands tucked under his jaw, just holding him in Shiro’s range. Lances fingers curled around Shiro’s thick arm as he tried to drag in breath in between the fevered meeting of their lips. 

 

The kiss broke with another wet sound, Shiro slid another step closer, his chest rumbling with a sound Lance recognized only faintly… 

 

He sucked in a breath as he realized—

 

Shiro was giving him an Alpha call. 

 

It was a mating call essentially. Low and thumping through his chest, it was the deepest thing Lance had ever heard. The roiling chuff sound rippled through Lance’s veins in a way that made him shiver. It was almost like a booming sound. 

 

He’d never expected...

 

Shiro released Lance’s throat, his hands shifting and going to the hem of Lance’s shirt. 

 

Lance didn’t even have a chance to protest before Shiro was pulling the shirt up. Gasping as Shiro pulled the shirt over his head, Lance looked to his Alpha. His hands were held in the shirt still, suspended over his head. 

 

Those eyes were so dark. 

 

Lance winced as Shiro fisted his hand in the shirt, binding Lance’s hands over his head. 

 

Shiro ducked his head, moving in slower this time, with his mouth open, and wet tongue peeking just slightly out of his mouth. When Lance looked to him, he was startled by deep, black eyes still looking at him as Shiro slowly moved in to kiss him again, bending to be at a perfect eye level with Lance, holding him captive by looking him square in the eye as he pressed in a kiss. 

 

It was a short kiss, Shiro just pressed in a soft, hungry motion of his lips over Lance’s trembling lips. He didn’t distill it farther before he straightened, and matter of factly removed Lance’s shirt completely, letting it fall to the wayside. 

 

Towering over Lance, with his straight-backed militarily perfect posture, Lance felt like he was almost being appraised as Shiro regarded him. 

 

Lance nervously rubbed his hand up over his other arm, averting his eyes from the scrutiny. 

 

He wasn’t allowed the slouched, inward leaning posture for long though as Shiro pulled his hands away, directing them out to just naturally fall away from him at his sides. 

 

Shiro was continuing to appraise, his dark eyes roving over Lance’s skin before he started to kiss and nip at Lance’s collar bone. 

 

His face was so impassive, so stone cold, Lance wasn’t even sure if Shiro actually enjoyed what he was doing. It wasn’t like it was before. Lance felt too nervous to talk, too nervous to even move. He didn’t—the last thing he ever wanted was to displease this man. 

 

Hesitant, Lance raised his hand and smoothed it over Shiro’s head. The soft hair smoothed under Lance’s hand as Shiro sucked a bruise on the peak of Lance’s collar bone. Figuring it must be alright since Shiro was allowing the touch, Lance raised his other hand, this one sliding to Shiro’s shoulder and over the hulking mounded cap of his shoulder. The shirt was soft, cottony feeling, over the hard definition of Shiro’s flesh underneath. 

 

It startled Lance when Shiro looked up at him. Lance’s breath was ragged, his throat felt dry and he blinked rapidly, trying to keep his vision focused.

 

“Uhhh…” Lance let out in a whine as his gaze locked with Shiro’s own pitch black one. The room was just so quiet, it made him feel like there needed to be something said. 

 

He was silenced by Shiro though as he swooped in for another kiss, deep and hungry still. His eyes flicked closed this time. 

 

Lance whined but squeezed his own eyes closed as his fidgety hands fell to Shiro’s chest as they kissed. 

 

Shiro broke and tipped his head, pressing their foreheads together as he looked down. Lance couldn’t really do the same. 

 

He flicked his gaze down though, seeing his shallow chest expand and retract with every breath. 

 

It made Lance feel so — He tried to cover up again, crossing his arms and holding them tight against himself. “It’s cold.” He tried to say, hoping Shiro would take the excuse.

 

But Shiro was already there, brushing his hands away. 

 

“Control,” Shiro’s voice boomed. 

 

Around them the light blue strip of the palace’s system lined the top corner of the walls, alerting the occupants that it was listening. 

 

“Turn the heat up to 75 for the next 2 hours.” Shiro commanded. 

 

There was a single wink of the lights, signaling it was a confirmed command. 

 

“That’s all.” 

 

The lights flicked off and left the two of them in the dim room alone again. Distantly, Lance heard the small whirling noise as the heater clicked on in the vents. 

 

Shiro, gave another low, drumming, booming chuff over Lance. It was more contented this time, less urgent but it was so close to Lance’s ear, his forehead still pressed to Shiro’s. It caused him to shiver again. 

 

Long fingers were hooking in the waistband of Lance’s pants then. 

 

“Remove your shoes.” The order was said so emotionless, Lance paled a bit. 

 

“Shiro,” he wined, trying to tip his head to look at him. His hand slid from Shiro’s chest, grasping at Shiro’s wrist. 

 

“Take them off.” Shiro just persisted. 

 

This time, Lance followed his orders and turned his head away so he could see as he reached down to his soft leather boots. He shucked one off before he noticed Shiro had taken advantage of the turn of Lance’s head. 

 

Lance could hear the delicious sound of Shiro licking his lips before he was leaning in, his breath hot over Lance’s skin as he pressed his tongue over Lance’s bond mark in a long, slow lick. 

 

“Ohhhhh,” Lance keened, he stumbled forward involuntarily, half tripping over his only shoed foot and half from the weak-kneed feeling that racked through him. 

 

Shiro used the stumble to finish with Lance’s trousers, dropping them to his ankles. 

 

“Step out of them.” Shiro ordered. 

 

Drowsily lidded eyes blinked before Lance gave a nod. He finished his first task, hearing a thud as his other boot dropped to the floor before he tried to wiggle his feet from the pants now awkwardly hooking his feet together. 

 

Abruptly Lance was picked up, Shiro’s metal hand hooking under his ass and lifting him so Shiro could reach down with his other hand and shuck the pants from his feet. 

 

“Thank you,” Lance murmured as he realized he was immersed in Shiro’s arms. He could smell that deep dark roasted cardamom scent and the musk of his Alpha pheromones, Shiro was starting to smell — spiced, like cloves and cardamom. He could feel Shiro’s heat. Lance nuzzled insistently to get his head in against Shiro’s neck. It felt so wonderful to be in his Alpha’s arms at that moment. 

 

The low rumbling chuff in Lance’s ear was the only warning Lance got before Shiro was turning, still lifting Lance up — and threw him face-down onto the bed. 

 

It snapped Lance out of his fog as he found himself splayed across their bed. He scrambled up onto his arms and promptly blushed—How in the world had Shiro manipulated Lance into only his boxer briefs. The purply, galaxy blue fabric was—embarrassingly form fitting, Lance realized as he looked over his shoulder at his own rump. 

 

“Hey—“ Lance started up. 

 

But as always, Shiro paid him no mind as he approached the bed. With an inhale, Shiro lifted his arms and slipped his own tight fitting shirt up and off, setting it to the side of the bed before he reached to Lance. 

 

Lance was blushing so furiously he wasn’t sure how Shiro found him even remotely attractive. Then a metal hand grasped his ankle. 

 

Lance knew what was coming and dug his fingers into the bed, “No, wait—“ 

 

Shiro wasn’t listening though as he hauled Lance to him, Ass up and bare to him over the bed. 

 

Lance opened his mouth but then Shiro’s hands were smoothing up his back. Shiro pressed his palm in again on the way back down. 

 

“uhhh” Lance’s inhale was audible as his eyes rolled back and his neck arched. “Yesssss.” 

 

The long drown out word brought out a rumbling chuckle. Shiro’s real hand pressed in more firmly as it smoothed a fluid line up Lance’s spine. 

 

It felt amazing. Lance wasn’t sure if he was going to sag into the bed or curl into up-dog in effort to follow that hand further. 

 

There was another sweep down, Shiro pressing just his fingers this time, one on either side of Lance’s spine, sliding them down effortlessly and leaving Lance a twitching, keening mess. 

 

His toes curled and uncurled, his lips trembling as he closed his eyes, hand fisting in the covers. 

 

“Yes,” Was all he could manage at the moment. “yes, Alpha.” 

 

“Shiro,” the correction was light, not scolding in its tone as Shiro lined himself directly behind Lance. 

 

Lance frantically nodded. “Shiro,” he panted. 

 

Shiro’s broad hands traced over Lance’s lower back, just lazily smoothing over his skin without the intention of activating Lance’s glands this time. At least until both hands came up, framing Lance’s waist. 

 

Hazily, Lance registers that that’s —  His eyes open. Down there, the glands down there… 

 

He turned just as Shiro was sliding his hands down, forming them to his shape and down farther, cupping his hands over Lance’s hips and his thumbs rest just at the dimples over Lance’s ass. 

 

“Wait—“ Lance tried to reach behind himself. 

 

But he was too slow and Shiro swiped his thumbs up. 

 

In half a second, Lance’s upper body hits the bed and he was pointing his ass up, presenting as hard as he could up to his Alpha, his mind lost in the thick haze blown in. He bit his lips and crooned as Shiro repeated the action. 

 

It was an intense rush to his system, feeling his shoulders shake and his limbs barely hold him up as he tried to push himself back into his Alpha. He wasn’t touching Lance after all, why wan’t he touching him more? Lance needed more! 

 

Shiro didn’t even seem to notice, keeping his little omega trapped between his framing hands, he held Lance still. 

 

“So pretty for me,” Shiro’s deep voice was like an arrow strummed across Lance’s nerves. 

 

He tried to crane his head to look back. “Really?” he asked. His Alpha called him pretty? It's true, right? Lance was doing a good job. He was being good for his Alpha. 

 

The dark eyes that flicked up to meet his own were still so unreadable as Shiro gave Lance an expression for the first time that night. The slightest of smiles spread before he nodded. “Very pretty.” 

 

Shiro hunched over Lance, his hands not leaving their spot as his eyes slid closed. His breath was so warm on Lance’s skin and at his lower back, ghosting over the soft sensitive flesh there before Shiro smoothed his tongue over the bottom of his spine. 

 

Lance practically howled in adoration. 

 

It was utterly blissful.

 

Shiro continued to lapse up his spine before his thumbs started to move again. Rubbing deep continuous circles in against the glands at Lance’s coccyx, it reduced Lane to a trembling mess on the bed. 

 

Things like, “Please,” and “Yes,” and the continuous mantra of, “Shiro,” were all tumbling out of his mouth as Lance sagged into the bed. He tried desperately to keep himself upright, pressing his hands into the covers fervently but his shaking limbs gave out before he could even push himself up. He knew there was no hope as Shiro kept up his journey, kissing and licking his way up Lance’s spine. 

 

The bed creaked as Shiro finally crawled on, trapping Lance’s legs between his own and further holding him down as his mouth finally reached between his shoulder blades. 

 

Whining, Lance felt like a raw bundle of nerves, every touch, every sensation hitting through him so hard. His hands fisted again in the covers, tearing at them as he whined again between pants. 

 

There was something else too, a sensation as Lance moved his hips, he blinked past the confusion to realize—he was wet. He was very wet. Slick was pooling in his boxer briefs. 

 

There was one more firm press of Shiro’s thumbs down on the glandes at his hips before Shiro was completely over him, his nose skimming up on the glands, rubbing against the ones at the back of Lance’s neck. 

 

“This is where they tried to grab you,” Shiro’s voice indicated it wasn’t a question. 

 

But Lance answered anyway. “Yes,” He wasn’t sure what was happening but suddenly he felt like he was on the brink of tears. “I’m so sorry.” He whined. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I tried to keep them off.” 

 

Shiro’s teeth nipped hard over the back of Lance’s neck with another chuffed growl this time. His hands finally left Lance’s hips, His metal hand came up, tracing a delicate line up over Lance’s throat, trailing all the way to the tip of his chin, tipping Lance’s neck to arch back and present his bare throat to Shiro. 

 

“It’s all right, my prince.” Shiro spoke in Lance’s ear. “I’d never blame you.” He pressed a kiss in over Lance’s earlobe. 

 

Lance wasn’t sure he could maintain the position. He felt like he was caught between a breakdown and a revelry. He pushed on the mattress, arching more back into his Alpha. 

 

“Good boy,” Shiro’s awarded praise felt like syrupy liquid gold running through Lance. 

 

“Yes,” Lance murmured again. 

 

“You’ve done so well for me,” Shiro continued to shower him. 

 

Lance nodded as best he could, pressed between Shiro and the metal hand holding him arched, fingers splayed over his throat, possessive in the way a thumb pressed into one gland and around on the other side a cold black metal finger stroked over Lance’s bond mark. 

 

He sucked in so sharp as his vision felt like it tunneled. ///Alpha. He was here for his Alpha. 

 

“Yes,” Lance crooned. “for you, Alpha.” 

 

“Shiro,” the correction was purred. 

 

Lance nodded shortly again. “Shiro.” 

 

“I’m the only Alpha you will ever submit to in your entire life.” Shiro’s voice dipped darkly into a growl. “You’ll only ever be like this for me.” 

 

“Yes,” Lance practically begged. Every part of him wanted to melt back into Shiro. He was ///his. They belonged to each other. Shiro would always protect Lance, would always keep him warm and safe and close. Lance wanted nothing more. “Just you,” 

 

“Good boy,” 

 

Oh, that felt like warm caramel pouring over his skin. Slightly sticky and gooey in a way Lance loved. His eyes rolled back with the praise. It rolled over him warm and sugary sweet and sooo goooodddd. 

 

Shiro was curling over him as well. His hand at his throat rescinded just a bit, still holding him at his mercy but now, Shiro could lean his head in, and a long tongue swiped up against Lance’s bond mark. 

 

Lance hummed a moan, his hand striking up, his fingers threading in Shiro’s hair. 

 

Around his front though Lance was vaguely aware of Shiro’s flesh and blood hand tracing over Lance’s abdomen. He was made aware of it as Shiro’s fingers dipped in the boxer briefs and slid in. 

 

Lance gasped as warm fingers slid over his cock. He —he hadn’t even realized, his focus had been on literally every other sex organ but Lance’s cocklet was hard and full and swelling even more in Shiro’s hand. 

 

It was more teasing, the way Shiro played with the cocklet, running his fingers over it and lightly, loosely pumping it occasionally. The squelch and wet squish made Lance realize he’d just released more slick, it was trailing down his thighs, smearing over their bed covers probably. 

 

As much as he could in his Alpha’s grasp, he writhed against Shiro. 

 

Shiro rumbled over him, his mouth suckling against the mark, in fevered motions. He pushed up and for the first time slid his own neck against Lance, rubbing his own primar glands over Lance’s. 

 

Lance bucked his hips back into Shiro—only Shiro ground down hard into him. 

 

And Lance’s eyes got wide. That was—oh. Lance could feel it at the cleft of his ass, it was still clothed in the harsh fabric of Shiro’s pants. But oh it’s—a knot. A knot meant for Lance. 

 

The whine that leaked from his lips was pathetic, but he didn’t know if he could voice anything now. 

 

Shiro was panting over him now, his hand was pushing farther down Lance’s boxer briefs, his fingers were moving past Lance’s cocklet, sliding away from it through the slick. The first touch was so gentle it had Lance keening again. 

 

Only sliding one finger through the slick, Shiro nudged at the mark more insistently. 

 

Lance didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted to give it to him though. Whatever it is, he could pull it from Lance all he liked. He was his Alpha. In that moment, Lance wanted to do anything for his Alpha.

 

“Alpha,” Lance slapped a hand over his mouth as he uttered it. His eye’s going wide as he realized his mistake again. 

 

There was a rumbled chuckle that turned to a full blown growl. “It’s a work in progress, lovely” His teeth skimmed over the mark in earnest. 

 

Lance was too lost though as Shiro finally slid a finger in him, not even going terribly deep just enough. The nudging of Lance’s channel felt like it released liquid nitrogen in his veins—

 

“Nahhhhhhgg!!” Lance let out, his hips bucked wildly, seeking any friction and his vision exploded white as he clutched horribly, fisting his hand in Shiro’s hair and his nails tear into the pillow at his other hand—

 

When his hips finally stopped, Lance felt like every ounce of himself had just been drained out of him with his orgasm. 

 

“Uhhhhnn,” Lance whining moan broke off as he collapsed in to the bed. 

 

Shiro over him was already on the move, he nudged and handled Lance onto his stomach, sliding his hand out from Lance’s underwear. With a tug though, he had Lance’s underwear jerked down, not enough to pool at his thighs, just enough to reveal his plump ass. Shiro sat back on Lance’s thighs, still trapping Lance’s legs. 

 

Lance felt so utterly spent he barely registered anything until he heard the rustle of clothing. He blinked, trying to manage a simpler breath pattern as he managed to get up on his elbows. 

 

It’s then, something heavy and long settled over Lance’s ass. Lance craned his neck back. 

 

It’s like he was looking at the sculpture of a god. 

 

Shiro’s own breath appeared ragged as he ran a slick hand down his lower abdomen and down his cock. His cock which was resting just at the cleavage of Lance’s ass. His eyes felt blown as he looked over it. It was definitely proportionate, and heavy, flushed a dark color. 

 

Shiro pressed his slick hand over it, pressing the cock in against Lance’s ass. And his slick hand—it was slick from Lance’s… 

 

The fog was receding fast now that Lance had been satisfied. He was aware of so much more, as the hormones finally started to clear his head. He also picked up the distinct smell of another fog. It was Alpha musk and it had drenched the room. It was all dark scents of roasted coffee beans and cloves. 

 

Thrusting experimentally, Shiro gave a throaty groan. His cock was an angry red and leaked out a gushing lump of precum across the cleft of Lance’s lower back. Shiro pressed his hand down further before he started to really thrust. 

 

Lance swallowed. 

 

It wasn’t much sound, but it’s enough to catch Shiro’s attention. 

 

Pitch black eyes flicked up under a lowered brow to Lance’s face. They narrowed on him as he gave a ragged breath. 

 

Lance’s hand in the covers started to curl again. He turned away, thinking he’d just ride it out before Shiro surged that metal hand forward, pinning Lance’s head into the pillow. 

 

“Lance,” It was uttered so low, Lance can barely make out the word from the growl. 

 

“Shiro,” Now that his head was clear, it was easier for Lance to get it out. 

 

His only answer was the rock of the bed underneath them as Shiro gave a powerful thrust, threading his cock between Lance’s ass cheeks and the hand holding him down. It was immediately followed by another thrust and another. 

 

Shiro threw his head back as he worked into a dominating possessive rhythm, his metal hand threading through Lance’s hair, pressing him down more into the pillow. 

 

The speed picked up then, hitched with Shiro’s thrusts, almost frantic. 

 

Lance fought to hold back a cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to curl his arms in around the pillow he pressed into. 

 

When Shiro stopped. still panting and feral he released Lance and mounted on his hands and knees over him as his hand went to his cock. 

 

Free to move again, Lance peeked up over his shoulder. 

 

Shiro pumped himself at a frantic pace, his eyes were crammed shut and his face contorted till—

 

The growl that ripped through the room sent Lance’s head spinning. 

 

White glops of seed dripped from Shiro’s cock, dropping onto the small of Lance’s back. Lance’s eyes dilated possibly further as he tried to get a better look without moving too much. 

 

Shiro kept milking himself very deliberately painting it all across Lance’s back. Lance swallowed, looking back—through Shiro’s fingers he could make out—Shiro had knotted. The bulge at the base of his cock a cherry red as Shiro pushed out any remnants of his seed. 

 

When he was done, the room fell quiet. 

 

Lance stayed still. Not sure what Shiro wanted from him in that moment. 

 

Then a hand moved across his back. It was finally gentle this time, finally the touch Lance remembered from his Alpha. The light skimming over Lance’s over stimulated glands sent him trembling again, but it was just cautionary, leaving no lingering touches. 

 

The only sound in the room was Shiro’s deep breathing as his fingers dipped into the seed and started to smear it up and down Lance’s back. 

 

It finally clicked then. 

 

Lance was being scent marked. He breathed in fully and he could smell it. Shiro had rubbed his own glands over his, and now he was pushing it further, covering Lance in his smell. 

 

Leaning down, Shiro pressed his lips to the peak of one of Lance’s shoulders as he continued. He rubbed the seed into Lance’s skin continuously, a lot like he was rubbing oil in after a massage. 

 

It was slow and Lance armed the pillow under himself as he relaxed into the mattress. 

 

There was more trailing kisses along his shoulders and neck as Shiro’s hand kept going, kept rubbing his seed all over Lance, from the tip of his shoulders down and over his ass. 

 

Finally, Lance knew it was done when Shiro raised his hand to Lance’s face. 

 

Presented with it so close — Lance knew what Shiro wanted. 

 

He just — now that he was here, about to do it...

 

He swallowed, hopping it tasted better than he imagined and started to lick any excess from Shiro’s hand. It was salty and didn’t taste as horribly as it could have. Lance still winced and had to close his eyes to continue. 

 

“That’s good,” Shiro whispered into Lance’s hair, gifting a kiss to Lance’s ear again. “Clean it all up.” 

 

Lance tried as best he could, even wrapped his own hand around Shiro’s broad palm and directing it closer. 

 

Just as he wondered at what point he was finished, Shiro pulled his hand away. He leaned in to give another peck at Lance’s cheek before in a display of upper body strength Lance did not have in him at that moment, Shiro pushed up over him and climbed off the bed. 

 

Shiro first hooked a finger in the rumpled mess of Lance’s underwear and pulled them all the way off. With a bit of squirming he had his off as well. He waved his hand for the light to flick off before digging out the covers he prowled back to Lance, sliding them both under the sheets. 

 

Lance wasn't sure what he expected as Shiro slid next to him, but it certainly wasn't--

 

Shiro pulled Lance back into him and his hand was at Lance's chin, turning his head as Shiro hunched over him and engulfed him in a dizzying knee knocking kiss. 

 

Humming his surprise, Lance's hand came up, his fingers digging into Shiro's scalp as he tried to steady himself in the kiss. 

 

It broke off slowly, Shiro's mouth claiming smaller and smaller kisses from Lance's lips. Lance was left panting as Shiro tipped his head back, and pushed his jaw up, rubbing his own neck across Lance’s, the shivering feeling of being marked, dizzying Lances senses. 

 

Shiro didn't prolong it though and pulled back, leaning down on his elbows. Lance was finally met with the stormy gaze of his Alpha. 

 

"That-- you could have just asked. You didn't need to take it from me like that." Lance's brow furrowed.

 

Shiro wasn't directly looking at him. but Lance could still see the way his eyes shifted, see his careful narrow gaze. Whatever reason had left him that night had returned, and Shiro's hands slowly moved down Lance's skin, tracing over his front and dipping to the valley of his trim waist. 

 

"I don't like being used. I'm used all the time. I don't like it when you do it." Lance pressed. He even leaned up to kiss at Shiro's still lips, softly, a different brand of affection than had been passed between them yet. "I thought that --  do you doubt I'm yours?"

 

"I-" Shiro stalled. "I don't find fault in you." 

 

"Then why did you do that?" Lance shot back. "Why take it out on me, when you knew this is something I would have just given to you. I'm fine to be marked by you, I'm not so keen on you shoving me down to do it." 

 

Lance could see the way the muscles in Shiro's jaw jumped. A successful blow landed.

 

"They need to know," Shiro said very quietly. "Your smell isn't of me. And they all know it. None of this would have happened if I had made it clear beforehand that there were boundaries, that you were a piece of me. " 

 

Lance shifted. "Is it because it was Iso's men?" 

 

Shiro stayed quiet. 

 

"You can't be quarreling with another Paladin." Lance said exasperated. "And I like it even less if you used me in a quarrel with him." 

 

There was more silence. 

 

"You told me, the world could be fucked, for all their opinion was worth." Lance pointed out. He voice was keen and sharp. 

 

Shiro blinked again, his eyes still unfocused on Lance, as his hands moved over the soft parts of Lance he'd so callously revealed. 

 

"I'm not--" Shiro started again. He frowned. 

 

"I thought it was us against them," Lance made his case again. 

 

That lifted the Black Paladin's gaze. steady stormy grey eyes looked onto Lance. 

 

"We don't need their opinions," Lance said very fondly, his hand brushing through Shiro's hair. 

 

"I know." Shiro's voice was much louder this time. but he held Lance's gaze stead. "But I need their respect." 

 

Lance stilled. 

 

Of course. Lance was still a chess piece in all of this. A Black Paladin that couldn't mount his mate was--Lance so dearly hated this game. 

 

Lance shook his head, "I didn't want this to happen like that." 

 

And he could see the first small crack in his Alpha's expression, the way his brow knit together. 

 

"I needed this," Shiro answered. "I needed to--" His hand smoothed up Lance's neck and so gently cupped Lance's face. "I do doubt that you're mine." 

 

It was Lance this time that surged up into Shiro, pressing his lips over Shiro's, drawling out a growled hum. It was Lance that lingered in the kiss before he slowly pulled away. 

 

"I'm yours." Lance whispered as he broke the kiss but connected their foreheads. 

 

"For how long?" Shiro breathed in a pure moment of honesty. "For how long till your sister needs more capital and the only way to get it is through you?" 

 

Lance blinked, trying to think past the raging feeling of--kindredness with his mate suddenly.  "I don't belong to them," Lance murmured. "I love my family and my home, but I agreed to this, and I have no regrets." 

 

Shiros was suddenly gripping Lance fiercely, his arms constricting around him and holding him tighter, closer. "You've already confessed your regret saying yester--" 

 

"Not to you," Lance jumped in. 

 

Shiro's breath was on him, warm and inviting. 

 

So as Lance spoke again he leaned into it, speaking against Shiro's lips. "I regret giving into my sister. " Lance blinked, hoping Shiro would look to him again. "I regret giving in." 

 

There was a quiet moment. "This wasn't about giving in." 

 

Of course not. Lance could even tell that. It was about assertion.

 

"You're no less than my father," Lance spoke. 

 

Shiro's eyes finally did focus back on Lance. "I won't treat you like your father does," Shiro's tone dipped suddenly, "I will never treat you like that--"

 

"My father is kind to me," Lance jumped in. If nothing else than to stop his mate from dipping into treason. 

 

"Your father allowed you to be given away." Shiro was already snapping back. 

 

"To you!" Lance saw his opportunity. "And if you find that so egregious, than never let me go." Lance sealed the small proclamation with a tip of his head. 

 

"As long as you stay," Shiro tipped his own head, eyes narrowing on Lance. 

 

He wanted respect, Lance repeated in his head. His low born Paladin, wanted--to be seen for what he was, clothed in Black. 

 

"I've been given to you," Lance repeated. "I can't leave."

 

"But you're not mine." 

 

"I don't belong to any one." Lance made sure his gaze never wavered. 

 

There was silence. the span of breath, then two before Shiro nodded. 

 

"I promise I won't go farther." He said. "I'm not sorry, it would be dishonest of me to say so. But I do want your permission."

 

Lance felt as if he should take a small comfort in the small victory, but he didn't. Instead his hands wound up around Shiro's neck again, his fingers splayed over the back of his head and dipping up into the hair at the crown of his head. 

 

"Don't make me into a prize," Lance pleaded. "I've already been made to feel like a trophy--"

 

"I'm giving you--" Shiro cut in. "Lance, I'm trying to give you a measure--of--" 

 

Respect. 

 

"You're worth more to me than their opinion." Shiro finished. 

 

It was a moment--Lance wasn't sure he'd ever experienced. Shiro's dark grey eyes shifted over Lance's face, maybe pleading that Lance would understand, maybe trying understand himself. It didn't matter at that moment. 

 

"Shiro," Lance cooed as he was suddenly surging back into his paladin. 

 

Shiro was abruptly taken back as he was very suddenly pushed into laying back flat on the bed with Lance crawling over him, humming his name in a desperate whine. 

 

"Shiro," Lance tried to express himself again. 

 

It wasn't anybody in that bed. It wasn't some fool he'd been traded to. It wasn't just a suitor or another nobleman. 

 

It was--"Shiro." 

 

It was when the blissful smile broke on Shiro's face , his arms coming up to coddle Lance close to him, holding him close to his chest as he leaned back into connect their lips in tender lingering kisses, that Lance knew he'd gotten through. 

 

* * *

 

Lance woke the first time to Shiro rolling on top of him. 

 

Blearily, Lance cracked an eye, but Shiro didn’t move as he latched onto Lance’s neck, suckling at the bond mark. He hummed into the mark before like the night before tipping Lance's chin back and rubbing his own glands over Lance's, Lance could barely keep from shivering as his arms wound around Shiro. 

 

There was a murmured, “I have to go,” before Lance found himself being kissed. 

 

He tried to sit up into the kiss, seeking more of it, but Shiro gently urged him to stay down. When Shiro rolled off of him and started his morning, he tucked Lance limbs back close to himself and pulled the covers around him. 

 

Lance sighed as he snuggled back into the warmth that used to be Shiro’s and let himself drift to sleep, contented at the sounds of his mate starting his day. 

 

The second time Lance woke, it was when he felt a twinge in the mattress. 

 

He blinked his eyes open in a frustrated manner this time to find — he sat up. 

 

Breakfast. There was a tray of breakfast sitting on the bed. 

 

“About time,” 

 

Lance looked over to find Keith, already munching away as he slouched in an armchair. 

 

Opening his mouth, Lance was about to blurt out another, ‘why are you here?’ But — his memory caught up to him. Right. Keith was his new shadow. 

 

Lance sighed as he sat up in bed. The sheets pooled at his waist. He couldn’t find it in him to be mortified at his nude state in front of the low-born, wolf raised mullet in the room. Instead he just sat against the headboard as he reached for a moon bun. 

 

At his back and sides, Shiro’s dried spunk pulled unpleasantly at his skin. Between his legs was also the dried leftovers of Lance’s own appreciation of their activities. 

 

“What will happen if I take a shower?” Lance inquired before sucking a peach slice from his moon bun. 

 

Keith snorted. “He’ll just scent mark you again the next time he sees you.” 

 

So Shiro had been right. There was apparently a difference between an unmarked and marked Omega. 

 

Lance’s nose wrinkled. “Have to shower sometime.” 

 

Keith gave a snort that actually turned into a laugh as he finally turned to regard Lance. “Want my advice?” 

 

Not really, but Lance figured why not, it wasn’t like he was getting rid of Keith. “Shoot.” 

 

“Wait till he’s with you.” Keith turned back to his own stacked tray. “If he can rub his scent all over you right after, he may not feel the need to mark you quite that  -- fully -- again.” 

 

God, this all made them sound like snorting, rutting animals. It brought a sour taste to Lance mouth. But it was sound advice, though a bit problematic since Shiro left hours before Lance was even out of bed most days. 

 

Lance heaved a sigh. “I’m going to have to smell like sex all day today, aren’t I?” At least he didn’t have any official business to take care of. 

 

The snicker from Keith actually sounded genuine. “Yes.” 

 

“It smells awful.” Lance commented as he ducked his head to smell himself. 

 

It was the heady scent of sex and sweat. 

 

“It smells like Shiro, like sex with Shiro which is the important part.” Keith filled in as if it was a point he was trying to smack into Lance’s brain. 

 

Lance just frowned. Yeah, he could make out the underpinned smell of Shiro in it all, the cloves scent so different from Lance’s own. He was sure everyone would pick up on it immediately. _How embarrassing._

 

“Any chance you’re allowed to leave the room while I find some clothes?” Lance inquired. 

 

Keith looked up at him then. His brow was raised as he regarded Lance. It lowered as a smirk followed. Keith knew Lance had figured it out. “Sure. You’re just not gonna be allowed to leave the Black Paladin Quarters unattended.”

 

“By you.” Lance finished for him as he pulled another peach slice from the moon bun. It was oddly satisfying to pull the bun apart piece by piece. Maybe it’s the same thrill Shiro felt when he pulled people apart… 

 

“Someone's sprouted a brain overnight,” Keith gave a full on chuckle this time. 

 

Lance lowered his brow as he narrowed his eyes at his victim moon bun. “I’m going to the gardens again. Try not to get too bored this time, yeah?”  he hissed. 

 

Keith perked at that. 

 

Yeah sucked being caught red handed, Lance thought. He picked up the pillow next to him and hurled it at Keith. “Now get out, I want clothes!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Oh my god, guys who's gonna be the next green Paladin? Wow the mystery is just so gosh darn mysterious... Oh that's quite the riddle I've set up there! Oh, the plot turns! Such intrigue! Much mysterious! *I say sarcastically as I trudge on to the next chapter.* 
> 
> **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance Sketch by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)
> 
> My sweet, bright, beautiful Beta: [Cosmosclouds](http://cosmosclouds.tumblr.com/)


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance Sketch by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i)

It took only a week for Shiro to compile his own candidates for the Green Paladin consideration pool. As always he’d been ruthless, brisk and entirely businesslike in his selection. Coran told Lance he’d looked over 300 profiles of Alteans viable for the position. He’d personally sat in on the screening of 50 before talking to 20 himself. 

And now all five of Shiro's candidates stood before them. 

As in all things, it was a ceremony, so Lance stood next to his sister in the massive hanger for the Green Lion. Behind them was the proper assembly of acolytes and courtiers. It was a small affair, only the closest to the throne allowed at the choosing. Across the room, Shiro stood with the Red Paladin at his ear and a few councilmen around him. From the grave look on his face, Lance guessed that Shiro wasn’t listening to whatever Iso was saying. No, his eye were on the candidates, scanning over them as he waited. 

Before them was the great, agile Green Lion. On a pedestal, just beyond the green lit barrier hovered the green Paladin’s Bayard. 

In a half circle around the Green Lion was assembled the candidates. It was alternating between a pick of Shiro’s and a pick from the Council. Each wore a simple form fitting black pilot suit. It was the same worn under all Paladin Armor. It also gave off a sense of uniformity among them. 

There was a chime from over head, signaling that it was time to begin. 

The first candidate stepped forward, a Council pick, and outstretched his hand as he encountered the barrier. 

Unfortunately for him, despite his confidant demeanor, the barrier didn’t even flicker. 

Rejected. 

Shiro’s first pick stepped forward. 

As well the boy was rejected. 

The council’s pick stepped forward swiftly. 

There was a flicker of the barrier, but ultimately—rejected. 

Shiro’s second pick stepped forward. 

Lance cocked his head at the small — person. Was it a girl? If it was, her shape was really androgynous. With big round glasses over her face, Lance couldn’t tell her expression as her quiet, short steps took her to the particle barrier. She looked so young though, maybe only fourteen, fifteen at the most. 

She didn’t even raise her hand, just gazed up at the lion, and the barrier slammed down, allowing her entrance. 

Straightening, Lance couldn’t help the sly smile on his face. 

The small mousy haired girl smoothly crossed into the Green Lions circle and took a hold of the green Bayard. She looked up then, to Shiro. 

He wore his own smile, this time a satisfied one , and oddly secretive as he gave her a brisk nod. 

The girl turned and held up the Bayard. 

The room broke into applause and the small crowd assembled, and started to move forward to congratulate the new Green Paladin. 

Lance stayed where he stood though, watching across the room to his mate. Shiro had become more at ease now that he spoke to a red faced council man confronting him. Lance knew that easy smile though, It would be a matter of seconds before Shiro brushed any concern away and got what he wanted. Lance was starting to realize—Shiro was a meticulous planner. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

And then there was a party. 

It was the royal palace after all, if there was an excuse to have a party, why not have a party?

Lance deposited an empty flute off to one of the hovering servants around before he picked up another. He usually enjoyed these sorts of things. Who didn’t love a party after all? 

This one though, was exceptionally crowded. Since Shiro’s unexpected choosing it had been a bit of juicy gossip to see what would happen with the Green Lion. Even the emissaries of Balmera had returned which meant — Lance was riding solo. Hunk snatched up every opportunity he had to be with Shay. Not that it was surprising, trying to hold up an intergalactic relationship sounded exhausting. 

Lance sighed as he drifted to the edge of the room. Holding up a relationship right here at home was exhausting. 

Since — everything, Lace had barely seen Shiro. Most of his interactions with his mate happened late at night when Shiro would slide over Lance, smoothing their skin together. It was always very late, usually Lance had already fallen asleep. Blearily he’d register Shiro removing his shirt, and then Lance’s shirt, and whispering hushed little nothings to him, as Shiro coaxed Lance into laying in his arms as they slept. By first light, Shiro was gone again and Lance would be left with Keith… 

Keith… 

The thought suddenly occurred and Lance looked around himself. Where was his raised by wolves stalker? Lance hadn’t seen him all day. That was odd for his creepy mullet-headed shadow. 

Lance spotted his sister, she was laughing and surrounded by a group of emissaries and courtiers all chattering away to her. No doubt they were ultimately hoping for sway on one policy or another. 

It was entirely disinteresting and Lance turned away to look out through the massive columns to the terraces. With the grand ballroom occupied with such a great fanfare, the windowed doors had been opened and the sleek gauzy fabric of the white curtains drifted slightly with the evening breeze. Between them Lance could just make out… the girls mousey messy hair was hard to miss. The rest of her had been utterly transformed of course. She wore royal Green Paladin Armor accented even with a short cape. A green jeweled circlet sat on her head as well. 

She boosted herself up onto the thick stone railing of the terrace and looked out and up to the stars. 

Looking around one more time, Lance couldn’t spot any better offers so he snatched up an extra flute and trailed closer, out into the warm night air. 

“How’s it feel to be a part of the team?” Lance asked as a smile spread. 

The girl jerked in his director. Her narrow eyes ran over Lance like she was scanning for a virus before resting on him. 

Lance offered the crisp bubbly drink out. “Katie, right?” 

Those narrow eyes only slendered more as the new green Paladin took the flute. 

“I prefer Pidge.” Her voice didn’t exactly hold a lot of warmth either. 

Lance still tried to smile. “Oh cool. I’m—“

“I know who you are.” Pidge cut in, her words biting. 

And you’re rude, Lances brow lowered. But he still drifted closer. “Oh yeah?” 

“Shiro explained you’re his mate.” Pidge said briskly. 

Lance nodded. “Yes. We’re life-bonded.” 

“You mean you were arranged. Or, in your case, ordered to life-bond.” Pidge cut in again. 

Lance wasn’t sure how to answer. It wasn't not true.  

Pidge gave a snort. “Figures that archaic practice would still be fashionable here.” 

This time, Lance looked over the smaller Green Paladin more critically. She was short, and like he’d observed, young. His current estimation sat at 16 but the way she spoke suggested a bit older. She was Altean, her ears like most curved downward. Her eye marking were perfect set of three triangles in a bright green that accented her gleaming gaze well. Her expression was shrewd and— striking, like she was a viper curled and ready to strike the second someone came closer. 

Lance set his own flute down on the stone railing. “I wouldn’t say its fashionable, It’s entirely uncommon.” 

“Right,” Pidge sounded like she was humoring him. 

Tipping his head, Lance held out his arms to Pidge. “I’m sorry, is there something I’ve done—“

“It’s more like what you haven’t done.” Pidge’s mallicious dipped voice was clear in intent. She turned back to look at the sky. 

Lance sucked in a breath. This was always the hard part about being a Prince. He was expected to deal with this gracefully. And yet still not appear weak. Yeah — right. He’d sure manage that. 

“I’m sorry,” He tried.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” 

Standing there, Lance wasn’t sure what was the best thing to do at that moment. 

Fine, his brain finally supplied if that was how this was going to go, Lance could at least wrangle some answers here. 

“How do you know Shiro?” 

Pidge just kept looking up at the sky. “Everyone knows Shiro.” 

Lance frowned. That was unfortunately how it seemed but that didn’t answer his question.

“And you specifically?” Lance pressed. “The things you’ve said about him suggest you knew him before becoming the Green Paladin.” 

Pidge’s gaze turned over to Lance. “I’m not so sure you want all that much info on him,  _ your highness _ .” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Mouth agape, Lance was having a hard time following where this girl wanted Lance to end up. 

“I’m bored,” Pidge huffed as she pushed off from the railing and was already leaving Lance standing there. 

In fact, all Lance really could do was just stand there. 

He wasn’t even sure he could piece together what happened. But there was a few things he was realizing—and ‘the new Green Paladin hated him,’ was at the top of the list. 

* * *

 

 

Even though the Green Paladin had walked out on her own party, that didn’t stop the rest of court from continuing. Lance wasn’t even sure most of them even knew there was no Green Paladin in sight. 

After making another turn of the room, Lance felt—well for the first time possibly ever he missed mullet-head. Keith wasn’t great company, but he stayed by Lance and at least talked to him. 

It was odd, the feeling—Lance couldn’t even place what his fluttering heart in his chest was from. He hadn’t taken up another drink since watching Pidge ditching her own soure. He’d tried to find Hunk but that was to no avail. Several courtiers had tried to talk to him, it just—Lance wasn’t sure anymore but it felt like such posturing all the time at court. He wasn’t sure he could survive their masked glances and veiled requests 

So with a sigh of resignation, Lance started on his way to his rooms. His sister wouldn’t be happy with him. But this show—Lance huffed. When did he start thinking like this? He used to love these things. He loved laughing and goofing around and talking to people. When did he start seeing all of this as a circus? As one giant mask? 

Maybe it was somewhere along the lines of not being able to see his father in the last month or maybe when Shiro had bit down on his neck… 

Lance was already to his door, slipping past the guards and wiggling out from Coran’s nose was easier than Lance had expected. He looked around him. It was so quiet. The halls were all dark. And when Lance slid open the door to the Black Paladin rooms it was dark in there as well. 

It was a change, Lance kind of liked it so he left the light off as he trailed into the room. A bath sounded so nice right then. Lance tugged off his stiff, regal jacket, resting it on the bed before he went to his vanity. There was a million little pins and trinkets to remove from his uniform before Lance could properly take it off. 

Actually thinking about it, Lance smiled. There were candles and a book in his parlor as well. That would be amazing. 

Finishing the removal of his finer wear, Lance kicked off his shoes at the foot of their bed before he trailed back into their entryway and turned into the small parlor that was his. He found the candles first thing, and tucked a couple under his arm, before he moved the door to shut so he could peruse his bookcase. 

That’s when he heard the sound of the entry door opening. 

Lance perked and shifted. That’s when the smell hit him and he smiled. 

Shiro. 

His mate was home. Oh this bath was about to get seven times better. Lance’s soundless barefoot steps halted though as he peered through the crack of the doorway, his hand was on the knob, ready to slide the door open— when he noticed another scent. 

Beta, female, and not remotely Altean.

And staring through the crack of the doorway straight across into Shiro’s office — she was pretty. 

Shiro was all business as he waved his hand for the light to spring on in his office. 

Lance took a step back, making an effort not to be noticed. His hand went to his mouth to still his breathing. 

The woman gave a whistle as she peered around in the entryway. “So this is what being the Black Paladin has earned you.” 

She was long with a creamy yellow skin and big solid colored blue eyes. She was slender but had enough curves to her as she looked around. 

Shiro hummed in acknowledgment as he leaned back against his desk and picked up a few papers, going through them briskly. 

The woman took a twirl in the room before her eyes a lighted and she fleeted into the bedroom. Lance couldn’t see into their bedroom, but his breath caught all the same. 

Shiro glanced up before his brow creased. “Hey!” He barked. “Leave Lance’s things alone.” 

There was a giggle from the bedroom. “But it’s all so pretty!” she gave another cute giggle. “And sparkly.” 

Shiro’s eyes twinged with an irritated expression but he still said calmly. “Please come out of our bedroom.” 

“You must have the most stereotypical Omega!” the woman exclaimed as she leapt from the room, showing off — Lance’s silver circlet. “Tell me, does he moan like one as well?” 

The circlet was finely detailed and richly jeweled with deep sapphires. It was a masterpiece of workmanship. Lance had been christened as Second Prince of Altea in that circlet. He’d been fourteen and the circlet had kept slipping into his eyes. He'd more adequately grown into it since…

His eyes went wide. He knew it was valuable to this woman on an entirely different level—but at that moment—it stung. It was his. It was something so uniquely his and she was prancing around mocking it. 

The folded file in Shiro’s hand snapped closed as he crossed the room in three powerful strides. 

He snatched the circlet from her head, growling, “Take that off,” 

The girl just giggled and twirled her way closer to Shiro. 

“Oh, but it’s so sparkly!” Her words somehow managed to sound sarcastic even as she giggled. 

She leaned into Shiro, her—Lance paled just a bit. She pressed herself completely into Shiro as she playfully reached for the circlet. 

“Nyma,” Shiro’s irate expression leaked the growl. 

She only smiled in return before popping forward—

And pecked a kiss to Shiro’s lips. 

It might have been more had Shiro’s metal hand not struck out, clamping onto her throat and thrusting her away. 

“Ohhh, we gonna play rough tonight, daddy?” the alien Lance now knew named Nyma purred up to Shiro seductively. 

Lance had to lock his limbs, watching wide eyed in the small crack as his— mate— Shiro— Lance tried to gasp for air as quietly as he could past the hands clenched over his mouth. 

Shiro’s expression still showed signs of irritation but smoothed into his usual blank stoic mask as he pushed the woman away. He went to the small entryway table, the one—Lance had so many memories of Shiro at that table. The night his bond mark had been revealed he could still vividly see Shiro’s devouring gaze on it through the mirror on the wall over head. 

Carefully, Shiro set the circlet down. 

“I’m not one of your targets, Ny.” Shiro said as if he was tired of her antics, he turned back to his office again. 

Nyma gave a huff. “I never said you were.” 

Her tone had changed. It showed its own signs of irritation. 

Shiro had stepped behind his desk, picking the folder of papers back up as he looked over at her. 

“I don’t have the patience to get into this right now with you.” He said matter of factly. 

She cocked a hand on her hip. “Since when was my attention such a burden to you?” She pressed. 

Shiro looked like he was about to roll his eyes. Instead he straightened up to his full height a bit more. “I know you still think that—“ 

“We never stopped, Shiro!” She hissed at him. 

Shiro’s brow creased. “I’m not sure I’ve given you the correct assumption, but whatever the hell you and I have done together, it was merely out of connivence.” 

She stalked closer. “Oh god, don’t flatter yourself so much!” Her arms crossed as she approached Shiro. 

Shiro regarded her coolly as he plucked a paper from the folder and started to fold it. When he was done he slipped it into an envelope, sealed it, and held it out to her. “Deliver this.” 

Cooly and already sprouting another flirty smile, Nyma flicked her gaze down to it before with long fingers she grasped onto it and slide it slowly from Shiro’s hand. 

The over sexualization of the act only seemed to deaden Shiro’s expression further. 

“You know,” She started, cutely tipping herself closer to Shiro. “It was only supposed to be a charade.” 

“I’ve life bonded with him.” Shiro said coldly. “I’d say that’s the opposite of a shell game.” 

She barked a laugh. “I thought it was supposed to be that bitch, miss queenly.” 

Shiro growled. “Watch what comes out of your mouth, Nyma.” he straightened. “This isn’t your house.” 

“Oh,” Nyma cocked her head. “Big bad Shiro is a mite bit suspicious?” 

Shiro didn’t acknowledge, only blinked at her as if it was too idiotic of a question to even grace answering. 

Nyma slid the envelope into the folds of her dress. “It was supposed to be her though, right?” She preened. “It would have made this all easier if it was her.” 

Shiro did actually roll his eyes this time. “They insisted on a life-bond. Lance was the obvious choice for that.” 

Nyma slid her arms up to gracefully slip onto Shiro’s shoulders and around his neck. “And is that perky little prince keeping his big bad Alpha happy?” She was smiling devilishly. “Word from Keith is —“ she was already laughing. She bit at her lip as she leaned in closer again. 

Shiro looked like he was dealing with a toddler and he wasn’t happy about it. 

“Tell me, is it true? Is that little shit still holding out on you?” 

Shiro just sighed deep and frustrated, letting a growl seep through. 

“Oh, he is!” Nyma concluded, as she cackled. “If only he knew what a romp in the woods with you was like. Tell me, does he have that delicious cherry ripe scent I’ve heard Alphas start drooling over?” She giggled past the — Lance almost choked. That joke was entirely inappropriate. 

She was leaning in and Lance could see—his breath had entirely stopped, she nipping at Shiro’s ear, suckling lightly at his ear lobe. 

“How about another ride?” She asked.  Her lips so close to Shiro’s ear. 

She was thrust off with such force she had to catch herself on the desk. She pouted till Shiro grabbed her and slammed her back against the office door. He was growling low and guttural, but in a steady stream that suggested he wasn’t going to humor her teasing much longer. 

Her face instantly snapped to emotionless. “You really have changed.” She whispered. 

“Trust me,” He snarled. “There’s still enough of my old self here to make you very uncomfortable.” 

She gave the smallest shake of her head. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” She looked over Shiro’s face again. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t believe Keith when he talked to me. I thought he was just being all brotherly again. Seems he was right.” 

Shiro released her like she was something disgusting to him and stepped back. 

“You know I’m going to say all of this.” She said quietly. “I was asked for a full report.” 

Shiro nodded. “They’d be stupid not to ask you for all the information you’ve collected.”

Her gaze was still on Shiro, still wistful as it traced over him. “It feels like I’m ratting you out.” 

That snapped Shiro’s gaze up. His eyes were narrow, mouth set in a cold line. “It was all  _ entirely out of convenience. _ ” He reminded her. 

She gave a quirk of a smile. 

It was a smile Lance could recognize. He’d give smiles like that. She was — very sad at that moment. But there was no way in hell she’d let anyone else know that, so she gave a coy smile. 

“What a shame,” She was back to flirty. “And to think you were such a little prodigy,”

Shiro just grunted, he was standing though and gesturing to the door. “If you would.” 

She glanced over Shiro one last time. “Not even a parting gift, huh?” She gave that smile again. “You really are quite ruthless.” 

The huff Shiro gave sounded so bothered, Lance almost took a step back. This man — he could so easily dismiss others in every action he made — it boggled Lane’s mind. And yet, if that sound would have been made at him — Lance might have had a panic attack. 

The sound of the door opening drew Lance’s attention again. Shiro held the door for the woman before following behind her. The door clicked closed behind them.

Lance still just stood there, stalk still in his small parlor. It took several seconds before he finally moved, sliding out from behind the door. Looking around the room — Lance wasn’t quite sure what to do. With stiff limbs, he went to their small entryway table, picking up the silver circlet and mechanically returned it where it belonged among Lance’s other pretty and sparkly things. 

He just stood there at a his vanity again not sure—

He’d wanted a bath before this, right? 

Maybe — maybe that was still good. He wasn’t sure what he’d just lived through but it was going to take some processing. 

His bare feet still made little to no sound on his way back into the bathroom. 

Once his feet slapped against the cold tile — Lance crumpled to the tile floor, barely catching himself on his hands and knees, easing down to sit there as he tried… His mate had just — the way that woman had been all over him… Lance felt like it was hard to breath. He blinked rapidly, trying to think through everything. 

The things they were talking about — who was she reporting to? About Shiro? Who would even need a report on Shiro? And Shiro had given her something. He was sending a message? To whom? 

Suddenly behind Lance the door opened. Lance flinched, but he smelled it immediately — Shiro was back in the room. 

This time no one else accompanied him and Shiro took his time, removing his shoes in their bedroom and stripping his formal wear as well. By the time he was coming back into the bathroom, it looked like he was in a simple white shirt and black pants. 

“Darling,” 

Lance jerked his head up to Shiro. he was on his haunches before Lance, his dark eyes on him. 

He reached out, gently running a thumb along Lance’s jawline. “What do you need?” 

There was such sincerity in his voice, Lance blinked rapidly again. How could he mean that? 

“You knew,” Lance gasped. His head started to shake slowly. “You knew I was in the room.” 

Shiro considered him for a moment, his hand shifting to pet a cross Lance’s hair in that same loving manner. “Of course I did.” He stated. “In an enclosed space like this — I smelled you before I even opened the door.”

Lance shook his head. “You let her…” He trailed off. “The two of you, you were involved, weren’t you?” 

Shiro made no effort to deceive Lance. “Yes.” 

Looking back down at the floor, Lance could feel the tears welling again. 

With a soft voice Shiro leaned in towards Lance. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it so.” 

Frowning deep, Lance wasn’t even sure what to answer. He wanted — He needed —what he wanted — was Shiro.

“I—“ he tried, his gaze scurried frantically across their tile floor. “I came in here — I had just wanted a bath.” he ended simply. 

Shiro didn’t react for another moment before brushing his hand back through Lance’s hair and gave a short nod. “I can get that for you.” 

He went to stand before Lance’s hand shot out, clutching at him. 

Shiro stopped, not brushing Lance’s weak hold away. 

“What was that —?” Lance asked, so confused. 

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice was still deep but so quiet. “I need you to trust me.” He started out very earnestly. “Everything I’m doing is to keep you safe.” 

“Is she spying for us?” Lance concluded finally looking up. “Is that what all that was about?” 

Shiro regarded him cooly before he gave another nod. “Yes. Of sorts. She collects information. She also peddles her collected data to anyone willing to pay for it.”

Lance’s brow creased. “Why would we need —“

Shiro reached forward, very gentle as he took Lance’s face in his hand. “I won’t lose this war on the horizon.” 

Looking up at Shiro Lance gulped. “You’re certain?” Lance asked. 

Shiro gave a nod. 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lance’s forehead before he turned to the bathtub and flicked the handle on. Hot water rushed to fill the tub as Shiro turned back towards the bedroom door and slide it quietly closed. 

* * *

 

 

It was surprising that when the bath was full, Shiro started to strip, pulling Lance from the floor to stand with him at the large tubs edge. His surprisingly nimble fingers started to pluck at Lance’s own clothes as well. 

“I can do it,” Lance insisted as he put his hands over Shiro’s. Gently but insistently, he pushed them away.  

Shiro gave a nod and dropped his hands. His dark eyes watched Lance though, like he was making sure Lance really could. 

Lance dropped his own gaze away and quickly removed his shirt, followed by the rest of his garments. 

As Shiro slid into the water and beckoned Lance to come closer with those big, calloused hands, Lance wondered when they’d become so comfortable being completely nude with one another. 

“Come on,” Shiro purred. 

Tangling their fingers, Lance took a first step into the water.

“Ahh!” Lance gasped and his foot rose back out. “It’s hot.” 

“I know.” Shiro said. “Trust me?” he tipped his head towards Lance, giving him another sincere smile. It felt like eons since Lance had seen a smile like that, a smile he adored. “You’ll enjoy it once you get used to it.” 

Worrying at his lip, Lance nodded and dipped his foot in again. It was still hot but he placed his weight on the foot and stepped the rest of the way in. 

“That’s it,” Shiro’s voice was rumbling in a contented way again. “It’s okay to take it slow,” 

It was still really hot, but Lance wanted next to Shiro, so he bit his lip as he crouched in the tub, letting the water rush over him. 

“Ah,” Shiro reached forward suddenly his hand going to Lance’s hip to steady him as he directed him, “Come on, don’t lean back that way, I want you in my arms.” 

Lance was more then willing to let Shiro turn him and lay him back in the water across his chest. 

The water was starting to feel nice as Lance shifted and curled on his side, between Shiro’s legs, resting his head on Shiro’s shoulder. His mate seemed perfectly content with that arrangement as Shiro’s hand came up, his wet hand brushing through Lance’s still dry hair. He pulled the hair back away from Lance’s forehead so he could lean down and peck at the crest of it. Lance sighed as he raised his hand, gliding his fingers over Shiro’s chest, tracing up the line of his sternum. 

“You knew her before all this?” Lance already knew the answer to the question. But he couldn’t—he’d never thought that Shiro had been a nun before this, but he just hadn’t considered. 

“You were worried I’d have taken her up on her offer.” Shiro hummed under him. 

Lance tucked his head in against Shiro’s neck. “She was very pretty.” 

“She was a cheap imitation,” Shiro briskly assessed. “Especially after I’ve finally held a real pearl close to me.” 

Looking up, Lance had to glance back away as he blushed. The rumble of Shiro’s chuckle was felt pleasantly as Lance smoothed both his hands over Shiro’s chest. Despite himself, Shiro’s small praise brought the tiniest of smiles to his lips. 

“Have I assuaged your fears, my prince?” It was a cheerful quip, meant to be playful, Shiro nipping even at Lance’s cheek in another kiss. 

Lance opened his eyes though, blinking before he looked up and shook his head. “No.” 

Shiro cocked his head. “I could never leave you. The bond mark won’t allow it—not unless we rejected each other—“ 

“That’s not what I’m scared of.” Lance interjected. He frowned but his chest swelled and he tried to bring all his thoughts into an orderly manner he could start to express. 

“That’s the second person from your past,” Lance shifted, crossing his arms over Shiro’s chest so he could still look at him as he spoke. “I feel like I don’t know you. Like you maybe don’t know me.” 

Shiro’s expression tweaked with irritation — but Lance observed it wasn’t like with ///her. No, this was softer, inquiring, less angry and more confused. “We have a life bond — we’re intrinsically linked, Lance.” 

“Exactly!” Lance whined. He gave a sigh. “I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with you and until Keith showed up I didn’t know you had a best friend with a bad haircut!”

Shiro sucked in a breath. “You feel isolated?” He concluded. 

Lance just nodded. 

Shiro shifted in the tub a bit, peering down at Lance for a few brief moments before — “I have known Keith since I was twelve.” Shiro smiled. “We went to the same academy together.” 

“So he was raised by wolves?” Lance gathered. “On Varr?” 

Shiro chuckled. “Not as far as I know, but yes on Varr.” He cocked a sneaky smile. “You know he may not admit it but he’s quite fond of you, the two of you might actually get along it you tried —“ 

“Flag on the field!” Lance’s hand with a pointed finger shot out of the water. “‘No lying’ has been thoroughly established at this point!” 

Shiro just continued to chuckled, his hand came back up to brush through Lance’s hair again. “He’s been my right hand man since we were sixteen.” 

Lance smoothed his hand back down under the water, sliding it again across Shiro’s skin. He was right, the water felt so nice now that he’d gotten used to it. 

“Is he an orphan?” Lance asked. 

Shiro nodded. “Of sorts, yes.” The answer was cheerful enough but implied Shiro didn’t wish to delve farther. 

“Wolves then.” Lance firmly assessed, nodding his head like it was settled. He couldn’t help the little smile that peaked. 

Shiro was curling into him though, a more devious smile touching his lips. “Yes, vicious, terrifying wolves, it’s where he learned all those death glares.” 

Lance stopped at that. It was said like it was supposed to be a joke — Like Shiro meant it to be, but there was a shot of truth in there somewhere, like the real joke was that it was true. That Lance couldn’t know, but the bare bones of it would flush out positive. 

It brought with it a feeling of deja vu. Just moments ago, Lance had been having a panic attack on their floor and now — the worried expression creeped back. The affect the life bond had on him was — startlingly terrifying. For a few moments of bliss with his partner he’d thrown out every concern he had. 

Lance resettled on Shiro’s chest, shifting away to the side more. He — the thought of Shiro kissing or nipping at him that moment — Lance shivered. 

Of course his mate picked up on the change. “Lance,” he spoke soft, tentative this time. 

“I screwed up with Pidge tonight.” Lance admitted. He had wanted it to sound as casual as before but — he could even sense the edge of caution now threading through his tone. 

Shiro must have heard it too because he tipped his chin, regarding Lance in that cooler manner. 

“So you’ve talked to Katie.” 

“She told me on no uncertain terms that she preferred Pidge.” Lance said. 

Shiro gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I’ve noticed, she’s pretty vehement about it.” 

Lance’s eyes dropped to the water. He became conscious of his breath before he spoke again. “You still call her Katie?” 

When Lance did chance to flick his gaze up, Shiro was watching him — no, still regarding him with dark eyes. 

“You’ve known her before this,” It wasn’t a question. 

Shiro regarded him for a few more seconds. It was like he was looking at a different Lance, like he’d pulled back some mask and was seeing something he hadn’t realized before. 

The only thing that came to Lance’s mind was, good. If Shiro wanted him for the next eternity, they needed to be clear that Lance was on equal footing with him. 

Giving a slow nod, Shiro acknowledged. “I’ve known Katie for quite a long time.” 

_ Where did you meet her? _

Lance wouldn’t speak the question, he just let it hang in the air between them. It was clear but non-accusatory if he didn’t speak it. Instead he opted to look at his mate. Lance even started petting gently at Shiro’s collar bone with his hand, but his eyes stayed narrowed and focused on Shiro’s face. 

Shiro’s gaze on him was unyielding. He never faltered before he let his mouth drop open just slightly. He sucked in a breath before licking his lips. 

Then to Lance’s surprise, he spoke. “She’s the younger sister to a close friend of mine.” 

“One I haven’t met?” Lance retorted. 

“One that’s dead.” 

Lance felt the breath in him slip form his lungs but he couldn’t manage to grasp another. his eyes widened —“Shiro, I—“ 

The water shifted and Shiro brought that powerful metal arm up and out, resting it along the side of the tub. “It’s alright.” 

Lance glanced at the arm before looking back to Shiro’s face. “How—?” 

Possibly in exchange, Shiro moved again, this time bringing both his hands to Lance’s hips. With a small yelp, Lance was suddenly picked up and moved, settling him in Shiro’s lap more, straddling his hips. 

Lance’s hands scrambled to Shiro’s shoulders to steady himself. Shiro’s arms thread up and around his waist, pulling him in close till they were nearly nose to nose. 

“We were in deep space.” Shiro’s voice was low, like a whisper or a secret he was giving to Lance. “Matt — Pidge’s brother and Dr. Holt — her father, were researchers. We were looking for anomalies in space time, it was their field primarily. They thought there was an easier way to make warps, more like — jumping from one place to another instead of having to create a rift, stabilize it and then warp, do you understand?” 

Lance brow creased. “I think so.” He added. “You mean like jumping over a stream instead of building a bridge across it?” 

Shiro gave a bit of a proud smile. “Exactly, my pearl.” 

Lance felt himself preen at that. 

“Well,”  Shiro went on. “One of their experiments failed.” 

Lance uneasily shifted in Shiro’s hold. “Is that how—“ He didn't finish. His eyes drifted to Shiro’s arm. 

Shiro shook his head. “No.” 

His metal hand made no sound as it moved. It had always seemed so unnerving to Lance that it never creaked like metal normally would, it never whirled or hissed. It was perfectly silent as it raised to Lance’s face and traced a finger down his cheek. 

“The anomaly they found was apparently quite the break through—But it was in Galra space.” Shiro looked emotionless as he went on. “So Dr. Holt was issued a military escort.” 

Lance tried to keep his breath stead, his expression cold. This was—he couldn’t betray himself, but this was nowhere near where he’d expected this conversation to turn. 

“Me and fifteen other men were sent out with them.” Shiro said slowly. 

Fifteen others… Lance had only ever heard of Shiro returning. 

“The experiment?” Lance inquired. 

Shiro gave a nod. “It was a natural pocket in space, Holt believed it was stable.” Shiro let out a long careful breath. “It wasn’t.” 

Lance shook his head. “Shiro...” 

“It collapsed on our ship. I thought it would have sliced the ship in two—but it didn’t. That's not how the science of jumps works, I found out. It pulled and pushed and as if the ship was caught by two giant hands it was slowly pulled apart, popping metal and—stretching it like putty. I never thought a force of nature could be so cruel. ” Shiro just went on. “I scrambled to an air lock as fast as I could. Matt was right behind me.” he shook his head. “We secured ourselves into an air lock at the tail end of the ship.” 

Lance’s fingers curled in at Shiro’s shoulders. Still, he wasn’t sure what to do. 

“We had to watch them die.” Shiro blurted. “It didn’t last long, even a Varrian raised in thinner atmosphere couldn't last long in open space—but it was seeing their faces, just floating outside the massive air lock window. It was horrible to look at a fate one crack away from being my own.” 

“And Matt?” Lance’s voice was small, but he felt like he needed to know. Or maybe Shiro needed to tell it. He wasn’t sure. 

“In the first blast of the ship he’d been wounded. I thought it was just a leg wound.” Shiro looked suddenly quite remorseful. “I did everything I could think of— but we didn’t have any form of communication. From what I could tell an artery had been ruptured.  He died with in the first day in that airlock. Altea may not have even thought there was a problem at that point.” 

Feeling a surge of possession, Lance curled his hands around Shiro’s neck. “How long were you in there?” 

Shiro relaxed a bit back into the water, letting his back fully sag back into the curve of the tub. “I don’t know.” He licked his lips. “I know I got hungry, I thought I was going to starve, I considered breaking the glass, suffocating had to be better than looking at my dead friend, looking out the window and seeing my dead comrades, wishing I was dead too.”

Lance wanted to lean in and press a kiss to Shiro at that moment, but he stifled the want. 

“I was lucky we were in Galra space.” Shiro admitted. “They must have picked up something—some tracking or even just a blip of activity. Altea may not have even cared, we’re lax in our patrol security—but Galra— a skiff turns on a radio and the Galra know about it and hunt them down for it.” 

Lance twisted to look at the metal arm resting at the rim of the tub again. Tentative he reached out and touched it. His fingers fanned out as they lay over the metal, warm for once from the water and he moved his hand down over the swell of Shiro’s artificial bicep. 

“Did it hurt?” Lance whispered. 

Shiro gave a small smile. “Yes, and it still does sometimes.” 

Looking up, Lance narrowed his eyes as he shook his head, so distraught over events he had no control over. “Why did they...?” 

Petting his one hand up Lance’s side he caressed the tender flesh over his ribs. “Most Galra prisoners are taken to the Arena, for sport.” He sounded more emotionless with tis turn of the story. “They didn’t expect me to win the first time, but I did. And I kept winning.” He wasn’t looking at Lance now. “Before I was strapped down, they told me I had earned a gift—“ He let out a slow breath. “I was their blood christened Champion.” 

He stopped, looking up at Lance then. 

An emotion Lance wasn’t familiar with swelled in him, making him want to puff out his chest. 

Instead though he leaned over, one hand on the metal arm and the other gracing Shiro’s shoulder before Lance flicked his eyes closed and leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss first to the end of Shiro’s flesh before moving and pressing a second to the smooth metal. 

Shiro didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arm around Lance from behind and blanketed over him, moving in to nose in against his jaw. Lance turned his face. When their gazes met, Lance felt like he could feel the thrum of lightening again. 

Lance tipped his head just slightly, letting his eyes hood before Shiro pressed in and smoothly sealed their lips. 

The kiss heated for just a few moments, Lance pawing at his mate’s face before Shiro pulled away, laying back in the tub and coaxing Lance to follow him, sinking in the pleasantly warm water as his hands started to run over Lance again. It was almost tender, like they were mapping his skin, appreciative. 

Lance shook his head but still slid forward. Shiro raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment as Lance seated himself back in the close to overflowing bathtub. He pressed a knee to either of Shiro’s hips and sat back squarely in his lap. 

Lance let his eyes hood again as he leaned in, hoping the slight smile on his face made the expression alluring. 

Shiro didn’t close his eyes, only continued to watch. 

Lance connected their lips slowly, his hands smoothing over Shiro’s chest first. He pulled back just a bit from the kiss, keeping them close as he ran his fingers up over the column of Shiro’s neck. 

Surprisingly as Lance continued to slowly move his fingers up, Shiro cocked his head—before he accommodated and tipped his head back, resting his head on the back of the tub and tipping his chin up, though not enough that he still couldn’t maintain eye contact with Lance. 

Oh god. 

Lance was pretty sure his heart just stopped. 

His Alpha was baring his neck to him. He trusted Lance. 

Leaning forward, Lance had to pull in a breath carefully as his eyes flicked down to take in Shiro’s neck. 

His Adam's apple, pultruded in such a delicious way and the thick base felt so smooth under Lance’s fingers. But none of that was his goal. Lance shuffled a bit closer as he leaned into press another small kiss to Shiro’s lips. 

Shiro’s kissed back, his head even lifting just a bit as Lance broke. But he continued to just contentedly watch. One hand came back up to lazily rub up and down Lance’s tender side. The metal fingers skirting over Lance ribs even made him shiver. 

But his eyes were still at Shiro’s chin and carefully, as not to startle his Alpha, Lance started to move his fingers up. The room was so quiet he could hear his breath and he glanced up just as his fingers reached Shiro’s jaw line—just to make sure he gazed at Shiro. 

There was no reaction from Shiro. But as if to affirm, he tipped his head just the slightest bit back more. 

Lance took that as an okay and pressed his fingers in as he slowly stroked, running his fingers from the the curve of Shiro’s jaw all the way up and to his chin. 

The effect was seen almost instantly as Lances fingers caressed over Shiro’s primary glands. His eyes rolled back, hooded as he relaxed fully back into the back of the tub. Lance even heard Shiro exhale deeply, his metal hand at Lance’s side grasping over his hip bone. 

Feeling a bit more confidence, Lance repeated the action this time leaning forward to peck a kiss to the jut of Shiro’s adam’s apple. 

It was the third time that Shiro’s arm wound around Lance, pulling him into tuck against his chest. 

“Mmmmmhhhhh,” Shiro gave an almost purred growl Lance had never heard. But it was—he very much liked the sound. 

“You’re poking a storm.” Shiro hummed as he brought his head up, nuzzling to the side of Lance’s face. 

Blushing, Lance let his eyes dip closed and enjoy the lavish attention before he answered. “Am I gonna get struck by lightning?” 

Shiro chuckled, so close Lance could feel every note of it. 

“It feels like you’re a damn lightning rod with how much I’m attracted to you,” Shiro murmured. 

“It must only be a matter of time.” Lance confirmed. 

Shiro didn’t say anything in reply, only ran a finger along Lance's jaw, tipping his head towards him so he could kiss him again. This kiss finally deepened and it felt like Shiro breathed in Lance. Shiro grasped at the back of Lance’s hair and the water sloshed in the tub as in a shifting movement he pressed them flush together. 

Lance finally broke the kiss with a laugh. He nuzzled in to Shiro neck though, “I wanna suck on it,” He confessed. 

…and abruptly found himself picked up and shot back at arm's length. 

“No,” Shiro half laughed but still had Lance firmly fixed in his gaze. “I wasn’t kidding. You'll drive me over the edge if you keep pushing.” 

Gasping for air, Lance looked back at Shiro. 

Right. His mate was more than willing— but Lance. Glancing down, Lance realized why Shiro had him now at arms length and he shot a new shade darker. Did he want that—in him? 

Lance looked away and nodded to Shiro. “Alright. You’re right.” 

Quickly Lance stood. embarrassment flooded him as he was faced with his own cowardice once again. It was Shiro. He wouldn’t hurt Lance. But—but a part of him was still. It was harder than he had imagined. He was—what if he wasn’t good at it? But was that even it? Lance felt like he knew the reason, it was just at the tip of his tongue. 

Allura wouldn’t have been afraid of it. 

Turning away from the tub, Lance stepped out, water splashing across their floor as he didn’t bother to kick off an excess and his wet feet plopped with every step as he quickly retrieved a towel. 

Lance knew his sister had already—He blushed. Why was he comparing himself to her so much lately? But the thought still prevailed. If Allura were Shiro’s mate—she wouldn't be dragging him along like this. 

Tucking the towel around his shoulders he pulled it firmly around him, burritoed himself in it. 

“Hey,” Shiro was still nude as he approached Lance, his hand threading through Lance’s hair. 

Lance looked up, mostly startled. 

“I want you to be comfortable,” Shiro explained. “I feel like I’ve coaxed you into more than you’ve liked lately and I don’t want to keep doing it.” 

Lance pursed his lips but nodded. 

Shiro leaned in and cocking his head, practically bowing so he could reach Lance’s downcast face but he still cupped Lance’s opposite cheek before gently kissing his lips. 

“Would you be okay with me scenting you before we go to bed?” Shiro asked, still so close his lips brushed against Lance’s as he spoke. “I won’t go farther than I did last time, I promise.” 

Lances eyes went a bit wide as memories flooded through his mind's eye. The thought—Shiro panting and groaning over Lance, his hand moving over himself a he held Lance close, his hot seed dripping over Lance’s skin—Lance bit his lip. 

“I—“ Lance averted his eye as he blushed again. He nodded though. “I’d be up for that.” 

Shiro gave another smile and his eyes closed that time as he connected their lips again, an arm snaking around Lance to swoop him up into his hold again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)
> 
> My sweet, bright, beautiful Beta: [Cosmosclouds](http://cosmosclouds.tumblr.com/)


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i), [Shiro and Lance by Vero](https://mobile.twitter.com/roseraiess/status/976300378114281473)

Shiro had asked if they could have breakfast alone again. And it was—it would probably never be within Lance’s power to refuse his mate such a sincere request. 

 

But now—Lance looked around the corner, he’d seen Shiro off and now briskly walked as quietly as he could to the main council meeting rooms. He glanced around himself a few times. Keith was still gone—wherever he was—and Lance was not going to let the opportunity go to waste. 

 

And as if by some grand stroke of luck, Lance saw his sister just as she came out of one of those meeting rooms. 

 

He swooped in and sidled up to her as casually as he could. She was surrounded by people all trying to get their say into her, but Lance pressed past them all to gently lay a hand on his sister’s arm, letting her know he was there. 

 

“I need to speak with you,” He whispered to her. 

 

Allura gave a subtle nod before Lance flitted off and down the hall. Escaping from the other clamoring courtiers made Lance appreciate his lack of popularity in the Altean Royal Palace. 

 

He was having a hard time getting used to Keith, if he had to get used to several lackies he wasn’t sure he could stand it. Lance ducked through a hall way and out onto an enclosed balcony looking over the gardens. It was an oddity in the castle and he knew his sister would know to meet him here. 

 

Though a few minutes later when Allura appeared… She had Iso with her. 

 

“Allura,” Lance said as she came through the door. 

 

“Brother,” She said cordially. But she warmly came forward. 

 

Lance smiled as they embraced, hugging his sister tight.

 

“It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve been able to be around you,” Allura said. 

 

If nothing else, Lance found himself pleased at the wistful quality in her voice. She really meant it. It wasn’t just another ploy of hers. 

 

Iso was already folding his arms over his chest, “What in the world was so urgent?” 

 

Lance looked up at the Red Paladin, his expression creased, he glanced back down to Allura. 

 

“We’ve both been worried.” Allura said then, drawing Lance’s attention back. 

 

Of Lance? What was to be worried about with Lance and even more--

 

Wait — Lance looked back at Iso then Allura. They’ve _both been worried?_ As in a _we?_ Lance’s eyebrows rose all on their own. This was — unexpected. 

 

Completely involuntarily he looked back to Iso. He wasn’t a horrible choice, Lance figured. But then again—the guy was insufferable. He was hot headed, temperamental and worst of all, so damn condescending. 

 

Looking down at his sister — Lance couldn’t read her expression. 

 

Iso was Red Paladin though. And Allura was to take the throne. With a union with the Black Paladin impossible--of course the next obvious choice would be the second in command Red Paladin, unless she planned to convince Pidge to consider her or even more unlikely Hunk to leave Shay. That didn't eliminate  all of his worries though. Iso was so--he wasn't exactly on the same level as Shiro. The problem was that Iso thought he was at that level and beyond. 

 

Lance looked between the two. It didn’t sit comfortably with Lance that Allura was choosing her company based on how much political clout it could win her. 

 

“Allura,” He knew his voice sounded unsure. 

 

Allura quieted him with a hand to his arm. “I trust Iso entirely,” She said as she looked Lance in the eye. 

 

That didn’t make Lance happy about his presence still. 

 

“He’s a greatly needed ally.” Allure continued, trying to assure him. It only solidified Lance’s suspicions that this was another power ploy. 

 

Lance huffed. Since when did they need allies with in their own home? Besides it was so unfair, to Allura, to Iso. Lance sincerely hoped there was connection and feeling between them, but he also doubted it greatly. 

 

He tried to shake it off. “Allura,” he tried to start again, but his eyes snapped back to Iso. There was just something—Lance wasn’t sure he felt comfortable saying much in his company. 

 

“You smell like him,” Allura observed. She lifted a hand to Lance’s cheek, as if to signify she was pleased. “The two of you must be doing better.” 

 

Oh, he wished he knew. He felt like he was holding onto Shiro with one hand and Allura with the other, and  they were starting to drift in different in directions. But Lance managed a tight-lipped smile. He could pretend he knew what was going on in his marriage for her. 

 

“I need to speak to you, about him.” 

 

Allura’s hand dropped, but her attention was focused on Lance. 

 

Glancing at their uninvited guest, Lance quickly made the decision not to tell most of the events of the night before. 

 

“Shiro—he assured me war is coming.” 

 

Allura blinked. “Lance,” She said as if she was tired of his games. 

 

Lance was already shaking his head though, “You don’t understand.” Shiro was so clearly already preparing for it. He was surrounding himself with people he trusted, he was setting up informant networks, he was practically setting up a personal guard for Lance! His actions were all pointing to bracing for the future. 

 

But looking at him, Iso looked like he had already dismissed the idea. There was no way he was handing over a scrap of information on his mate over to that pompous ass. But without it— Lance gazed at Allura, there might be no convincing his sister that he knew he was right. 

 

“Look this isn’t some prank of mine,” Lance tried to plead, taking his sister’s hand. “Last night, when I spoke to Shiro. He didn’t suggest war might be coming, not like any nobleman here. He was assured it was coming.” 

 

Allura wore an expression of doubt. There was a slight pause before she spoke. “Lance, you haven't been in council meetings, you don’t know what you’re talking about. The Galra have already de-escalated on our borders. This will blow over, I assure you.” She placed her hand over his. “Once father is able to sit back in his throne again, you’ll see. This is an empty threat from a war-nation. The Galra would be fools to attack Altea.” 

 

Because of Voltron. They wouldn’t attack because they had already tried in the past. And Voltron had decimated them, everyone knew that. But now— Lance glanced at Iso. There was no denying there was a rift between the Paladins. Between Iso's discontent and Shiro’s reservations they had never even mind melded. 

 

Lance looked back to his sister. “Please,” He sighed. “Just consider it. You said he was the best possible suitor for me. Please take that into account when I tell you I don’t think he would say anything to me unless he was certain.” 

 

Iso snorted. "He’s fear mongering.” 

 

Lance turned a scowl to the red Paladin. Just the notion made Lance’s lip curl in disdain. 

 

“Shiro would never use fear to convince me of anything.” Lance said in a surprisingly steady voice. 

 

Lance could see Iso's hackles already start to raise. 

 

Allura looked in thought as she crossed her arms. “What has made Shiro so convinced?” She wondered aloud. 

 

“I—I don’t know,” Lance admitted. He fully turned back to his sister. 

 

“What has he seen in these last few weeks that we haven’t?” Allura wondered further. 

 

Lance stood a bit straighter at that. The night before flashed in his mind. Shiro had lived as a Galra prisoner for years, he’d admitted it to Lance. 

 

Allura gave a frustrated sound. “it’s just more posturing!” She waved her hand. “They’ve done this before. It’s all in patterns I’ve been assured are meaningless in the end.” 

 

Lance shook his head. “I can’t tell you what he sees,” Lance shifted uneasily. “But whatever it is, I want—“ he stopped, unsure how to express himself. “You should be just as prepared for it as he is.” 

 

Looking over at him, a smile crept into Allura’s expression. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I should be as prepared as he is.” 

 

It was a sudden swell in Lance’s chest that allowed him to smile back so fully. She was going to listen to him. Thank the lion Goddess! Allura was actually going to listen to him for once. 

 

“He’s the one posturing!” Iso cut in. 

 

Lance looked over to Iso . 

 

“Shiro is trying to divert attention.” Iso said plainly. “What better way to occupy his mate than have him chasing his tail on a war that will never come.” 

 

“On a war that will never come?” Lance hissed. “Are you deaf?” He set his feet as he squared off to the Red Paladin. “Even if what I’m saying isn’t true, rumors of war are on everyone's tongues right now! I can’t walk down these halls without hearing at least one hushed conversation over the Galra!” 

 

Iso huffed, “It’s always been like this! The big, bad Galra have always been at our doorstep. They're only making noise now became King Alfor has taken ill. Once he’s back on his feet, the war cries will die down.” 

 

Lance just looked to Allura. “You said it yourself,” He said evenly. “Shiro has that arm for a reason. He hasn’t shared with me what he sees, but I’m telling you he’s preparing.” 

 

Leaving, Lance felt a knot in his stomach. He had a feeling his sister wasn’t going to take his advice. 

 

* * *

 

His father was awake. And he was holding court. Lance had sighed in relief so audibly at the news, Shiro had stepped closer towards him. 

 

Hurriedly Lance had dressed in some of his finest cloths—since being mated he hadn't really bothered with Court. Finding something cute to flirt with was the main point after all, and Lance skin crawled at the notion now. No, since his bonding he would much rather snatch up every morsel of time Shiro gifted him from his impossible schedule. 

 

Dressed in a light blue, Lance had made sure Shiro was in full presentation as well, smoothing his hand over Shiro’s black uniform. 

 

“He’s alright,” Lance exhaled as Shiro had gently cupped his shoulder. 

 

Shiro had just nodded, clearly indulging his mate. 

 

But dutifully, Shiro didn't put up a single word as Lance hauled them to the throne room. He dusted off Shiro one last time, making sure his own appearance was pristine, much to Shiro’s exasperation, before Lance chastely took Shiro’s crooked arm and nodded to the footman at the ready. 

 

The footman opened the doors and bellowed:

 

“Announcing 1st Paladin of Voltron, Pilot of the Black Lion Takashi Shirogane, and his bond-mate His Royal Highness, 4th Paladin of Voltron, pilot to the Blue Lion, and second heir to the throne, Prince Lance.” 

 

It was all formalities and once Shiro stepped in along with Lance, their presence was almost immediately dismissed. They were expected to be here. It wasn’t interesting gossip that they were here or that Lance clutched at Shiro’s sleeve fiercely as he led them into the chamber. The great hall that was usually the expanse of the throne room had been cut down by makeshift walls of dark fabric that draped from the high ceilings all the way to the floor. It created an inner sanctum where only a few were allowed in. 

 

Lance knew he was one of those few as he tugged and prodded Shiro forward. At his side, Shiro gave him a look that suggested he’d like Lance to calm down. 

 

But Lance only scrunched his nose and tugged Shiro more insistently, pulling them through the throngs of people. 

 

Lance’s father was on the other side of that wall. The King of Altea, and the one man that had always been the absolute kindest to Lance. It had been months since Lance had seen his father, since he’d hugged him, and just because Shiro found Lance’s behavior perturbing wasn’t a good enough reason to stop Lance from basically racing to his father’s side. 

 

The drapery was immediately pulled back just enough and Lance squeezed in and past, finally releasing Shiro and skittering on ahead. 

 

Shiro had to duck his head as he entered, despite a footman holding the drapery back, Shiro raised his hand to hold up another end of the drapery to allow for enough room for himself to pass through. 

 

Lance froze in the middle of the room. 

 

Before him was the enclave of the throne. His father’s throne had been brought in and propped with pillows and rich thick fabrics. 

 

But King Alfor — wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

 

“He’ll be taking his time,” Shiro slid a hand onto Lance’s shoulder, drawing his attention back to where he stood behind him. 

 

“Everyone is watching closely,” 

 

Lance tipped his head to see the much smaller new Green Paladin had joined them. She looked up at the throne — her expression suggested she was bored but her eyes… they were scanning the room. Lance doubted much was getting past her. 

 

“There’s been too many rumors he’s dead, so he’s going to reveal himself only when he has his full strength to do so.” The little strategist went on. 

 

Lance wrinkled his nose at the little intruder. 

 

“Pidge,” 

 

There was a lift of fondness in Shiro’s voice Lance found himself insanely jealous of, and he even looked back over his shoulder at his mate. 

 

The younger Paladin took it as a scolding through and looked up at Shiro. “He’s had to of heard the talk by now.” She tried to defend herself. “I mean, I’ve been here all of five days and I’ve been informed of it all!” 

 

What an insensitive little twit. 

 

Lance’s gaze floated between Shiro and Pidge. All of his mates friends were pure heathens! 

 

There was a blare of a great horn then though and Lance’s head snapped back to look to the head of the room. There was no announcement for his father. There never was. It was a sign of reverence, His name didn’t need to be spoke. It was on every tongue as an opening was pulled back in the drapery. 

 

At Alfor’s first step through there was a wave through the small assembly, each participant taking to their knees. Allura bowed, her head reverently lowered in an effortless moment of grace as she descended first, setting off the ripple in the room. 

 

Lance followed her example, casting his eyes downward, Lance slid to his knee cleanly. He could feel next to him as first Pidge went down, and then a bit more stiffly Shiro went to one knee. 

 

He tried to flick his eyes closed as his sister had done, showing her self perfectly subjugate, but as always Lance was too eager and looked up through his lashes as his father entered. 

 

He—he no longer stood quite as tall. Or quite as broad. He used to hold up the framing cloak at his shoulders as effortless as his mantle of King. But now, it formed around him more awkwardly, it looked to be holding his shape more then he held it. Lance winced as he saw his father’s slow and concentrated steps towards the throne. They were—there was a deliberateness about them Lance found uncomfortable. 

 

When Alfor had mounted the dais, he stood before his throne and raised a hand. The guards at this sides gave a clear ringing pound of their semiteirs on the cold marble. The sound rang out signally the release. 

 

As gracefully as she had bowed, Allura tipped her head forward, crystalline eyes springing forward to greet her father with a grand smile. 

 

Lance wasn’t sure why he did it, but just as he straightened himself, he looked back over his shoulder to Shiro. 

 

Shiro was still—but moreover, his eyes were that of black storm clouds, and his grave expression was pointed straight ahead to the king. His gaze never wavered either as he stood, taking up his full height as if—Lance swallowed. It was almost as if Shiro looked like he was facing off towards King Alfor. 

 

* * *

 

Allura had rushed forward and embraced the king once he’d waved her up. It was a warm embrace. And Allura looked elated as she clutched at her father’s hand. 

 

Then those wrinkled crystalline eyes had turned in Lance’s direction. 

 

Lance went to step forward—only to find the hand on his shoulder, Shiro’s metal hand clutching at him. His fingers dug in possessively and though he’d affixed his face back into the stoic expression he usually wore, his eyes were still forward to the King. 

 

Shiro carefully turned his head to Lance, regarding him for just a moment before he leaned in over Lance’s shoulder and pressed a small kiss to the peak of Lance’s cheek bone, right over the bright blue eye marking. 

 

Lance flushed immediately and as though Shiro was giving him his blessing he smoothed his hand away from Lance, sliding it down his spine before he fully let him go. 

 

The heat didn’t dissipate, instead spreading as Lance took a small step forward. 

 

Shiro was making it clear—he was _allowing_  Lance to go up to his King. 

 

Regaining his balance, Lance pulled on a smile as he jogged up the steps of the dais and into a hug from his father. 

 

“I’ve missed you, my pearl.” Alfor hummed into Lance’s hair. 

 

Lance breath caught. His memory usually turned to his mother at the nickname. Queen Iphigenia had died when Lance was very young, she had had Lance’s dark hair and same, though slightly teal shaded eye markings. After losing her, Alfor had graced the closest thing to his wife with the small pleasantry. 

 

Lance had thought he’d grow out of it. But he never did. 

 

But that’s not what Lance thought about. No, he thought about someone else calling him _a pearl._  His eyes shifted from their embrace back through crowd. 

 

Shiro was looking at him, he wore an easier expression this time, not so taunt, or severe—but it was still trained upwards, on Lance embracing his father. 

 

“Please don’t go away again,” Lance murmured. 

 

With eyes crammed shut, Lance threw himself even more into the tight embrace of his father. 

 

* * *

 

Allura had been allowed to stay up upon the dais with her father, gracing a small chair brought up for her. She stayed most of the night at her fathers side. 

 

But that wasn’t what bothered Lance. After a while, Lance had resigned his place and trailed back down to his Black Paladin. As was usual, Shiro had quickly attracted the company of various military men. They all drank dark amber liquors and a few puffed away on thick cigars. 

 

Shiro seemed to content himself halfway through the night with running his hand lightly down Lance’s back. At first Lance had looked up at him. He was clearly activating the glands down Lance’s spine, though in a casual motion. But as Shiro had continued Lance relaxed into the movement, drifting closer to his mate and into his touch. 

 

When Lance was drowsy on the affection and leaning into Shiro’s side was when Shiro chose to look up at the dais. 

 

“Your family seems to be favoring Red’s company.” 

 

A bit surprised, Lance blinked as he shifted to look up at the dais, and immediately regretted it. 

 

Allura was—she was moving things too quickly. If this was her plan of action even Lance could see this was too fast. She needed to ease into an introduction. 

 

But there Iso sat on the other side of Allura, his hand casually around Allura’s shoulder. 

 

If Iso had taken up the spot to Alfor’s right, Lance wasn’t sure he could’ve have gotten away without a direct challenge to Shiro. So staying at Allura’s side was the smarter tactic.

 

But still… Lance blushed as he looked away and down at his feet. 

 

“Have you talked with your sister recently?” Shiro’s tone was casual, but Lance doubted he meant it casually. 

 

Lance wanted to be honest—but there was still that inkling. The memory of Shiro’s stormy gaze up to the throne still lingered. “No.” He exhaled the word. “We’ve quarrelled a bit in the last little while,” Lance looked up to his sister. “Besides, her schedule is almost as ridiculous as yours.” 

 

With a raise of his brow, Shiro shifted to look down at Lance. “The two of you are fighting?” 

 

Caught in his own words, Lance started to unconsciously nibble at his lip. “I mean, it’s not bad—we always disagree.” 

 

Shiro nodded as his gaze traveled back up to where Allura sat laughing openly with a baron that had approached to give his respects to the king. 

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Lance tried to urge. 

 

Shiro nodded again. 

 

He didn’t in the least look convinced. 

 

And Lance felt like his sister had just handed over something she would have been better served kept close. 

 

* * *

 

For the first time in what seemed like months, Lance and Shiro attended breakfast in the grand hall. Lance had grown accustomed to the private meals in their room or out on the garden terrace so as he sat next to Shiro at the head table he rather awkwardly tried to look away from the expanse of the room. 

 

Shiro had already been up for a few hours, his day started well in advance. Lance was pretty sure he’d already attended a council session as well as another smaller meeting. He still graciously greeted Lance as he sat down at King Alfor’s side. 

 

Lance looked around his Black Paladin to his father. His father’s eyes were on Allura.

 

Lance frowned. 

 

She sat to his left—but more so, Iso was by her as well. She had her hand lightly placed over his own as she conversed. 

 

That wasn’t—Lance frowned. She was playing this too obviously. 

 

But breakfast was already being served. At the very least next to them Shiro seemed unperturbed and even smiled softly at Lance. 

 

Lance tried to pretend that it was just the two of them as usual. Things were always easier without the royal entourage of an audience watching him. Lance’s gaze was drawn across the room, he felt like he needed to analyze every detail, and he hated it. 

 

“Where’s Keith?” Lance abruptly asked. 

 

Shiro looked up in surprise, but a smile quickly overtook the expression. “I thought you didn’t like him.” 

 

“I don’t.” Lance insisted. He even crossed his arms as he pointed his chin in defiance. “He’s messy. And tactless.” He let his posture relax. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed his absence.” 

 

Shiro chewed the food in his mouth slowly as he nodded to Lance before giving an answer. “He’s out on my request.” 

 

“Where?” Lance persisted. 

 

“Space,” Shiro answered in the same insistent tone. He was smiling though. 

 

Lance crossed his arms again. His mate’s chipper mood was leading in one direction—he was teasing Lance. And it was just an inkling, because Lance had yet to witness a perfectly relaxed Shiro—but he was pretty sure Shiro enjoyed teasing Lance almost as much as the Mullet enjoyed saying inappropriate things. 

 

“That’s a vague answer.” Lance chided. 

 

Shiro just chuckled. He smiled at Lance again, making it clear it was the only answer Lance was going to receive. 

 

“Will Keith be gone throughout the festivals?” 

 

Iso. 

 

Both Lance and Shiro peered past King Alfor and Princess Allura at the intrusion of their conversation. 

 

When Lance exchanged a glance with his sister he knew she had picked up on it as well.

 

She quickly chimed in, “I am so excited for the picnic to begin tomorrow!” She smiled brightly. 

 

King Alfor chuckled at her side. “I told Coran it wasn’t necessary.” 

 

“Oh but father it is!” She kept up. “You’re well, and we should celebrate that fact.” 

 

With a dip of his head, Shiro’s expression spoke of confusion . 

 

“Coran has arranged for a festival picnic in celebration of my fathers return to court.” Lance explained in a hushed tone this time. 

 

“Ah.” Shiro sounded as he took another bite of breakfast. 

 

“You’ll be attending won’t you, Black Paladin?” King Alfor addressed Shiro. 

 

Well Lance had doubted it before, but at the request of a King… 

 

Shiro ducked his head, accompanying the nod with a gracious smile. “I’d be honored, my King.” 

 

“Oh good, I have heard you are rather fond of competitions.” Alfor went on. 

 

Lance laughed at Shiro’s side. Right, ‘fond’ was a kind way of putting it. 

 

“I enjoy a good sport now and then,” Shiro said, that smile turned just a smidgen smug. 

 

“You’re competing then?” Iso spoke up. He was leaned over the table, hands clasped and plate of breakfast forgotten as he regarded Shiro. 

 

“More than likely,” Shiro answered before he contentedly took another bite of his food. 

 

“And my son?” Alfor raised his eye brow. 

 

Lance let his laugh be much more audible this time. 

 

From down the table Allura giggled in response, her hand coming up to her mouth. 

 

“I think I’ll have a great time, “ Lance exclaimed. “Under the tents, drinking plenty of wine and enjoying watching everyone else.” 

 

Allura chimed in her brothers defense, “Father, as much as you try, I’m not so sure you’ve quite grasped how much my younger brother doesn’t enjoy any sort of sport.” 

 

Alfor sighed, though in a loving way. “I suppose you’re right, your brother has quite a great deal of his mother in him. I remember I became Solstice Tournament Champion in her name, though when I approached her afterwards she informed me she would have much rather I just picked her some flowers.” 

 

“Should I be taking notes?” Shiro unexpectedly commented, looking to Lance. “Would you prefer white or blue flowers after the competitions tomorrow?” 

 

It was—Lance smiled as he observed his Black Paladin. It was a rare mood indeed when Shiro dropped flirtation with Lance. 

 

“Both I think,” Leaning away, it gave Lance the perfect opportunity to lounge back in his chair. He pressed a finger to his mouth as if considering something. “You could take me to stroll through the gardens if you were feeling very generous.” 

 

The level gaze from Shiro sent a lovely, pleasant feeling through Lance. His smile only grew more sincere as he looked at Lance. There was a notion in the back of Lance’s mind though. There was something about Shiro that terrified Lance. A potential Lance could see in him every so often that made Lance tremble. But in just a shift of his smile, Lance found himself forgetting all of it. How was it, at times, Lance could be so completely enamored with the man next to him? 

 

“As if his Highness doesn’t already spend copious amount of time indulging himself.” Iso drawled

 

Lance felt like sighing. It had always been this way with Iso. He was always making comments about how Lance didn’t train enough or didn’t invest himself in his Paladin role enough. 

 

Lance just glanced at his sister though. She knew Lance’s distaste of Iso, and still she had invited him into their inner sanctum. 

 

About to give a retort, Lance didn’t notice Coran until he stepped up to Shiro’s side. 

 

His words were hushed enough Lance couldn’t catch any specifics but from the way Shiro nodded before turning to Lance he was pretty sure he got the gist of it. 

 

His Alpha was needed elsewhere. 

 

Conceding to Shiro’s pleading look, Lance let him nuzzle in against the bond mark before slipping from his chair, excusing himself. 

 

“In quite a short time he’s become almost irreplaceable to my kingdom.” Lance didn’t expect the comment from his father. 

 

With a wide-eyed look Lance turned to his father. 

 

“He seems very fond of you though,” Alfor was smiling as he spoke. 

 

Lance didn’t know what else to do so he smiled in return giving a small nod. He hoped it was true at least. 

 

“That makes me very happy to see.” 

 

Lance smiled wider, though—there was a sad quality to his father voice. If Lance wished, he was sure he could dissect a meaning.

 

But at that moment, there was little he wished to overthink. 

 

* * *

 

At one point in his life, Allura would whisk past him, snatching up his wrist and towing him off to some secret corner, all to the mounting delight in Lance. They would scheme and giggle and commiserate. They were mischief incarnate. Allura was always blinking mirthful eyes at him and Lance would smile back with a grin from ear to ear. His sister was his partner in crime. 

 

And though she never got caught even when Lance was always getting caught and always taking a punishment, he still adored running off into the servants halls with her, still flourished the moment she would say, “I have an idea,” or “baby brother, this way…” 

 

But now—Lance sighed heavily as he felt his sister brush past him, taking his wrist she started to lead him down and around to a secluded balcony. 

 

When had the shift occurred? 

 

The obvious answer was the moment Lance felt Shiro lift the moon flower wreath from his head. But the answer felt too cut and dry. It was before that. Maybe around the time Allura stopped racing with Lance through the gardens and started attending court every evening. Or maybe when instead of bursting into canderous laughter at one of Lance’s stupid jokes, she instead would give him a scolding look. 

 

Allura checked to make sure no one had seen them before she flicked the drapery shut, effectively secluding them in the small enclave of the balcony. 

 

“Are you serious?” Lance shot at her before Allura could barely turn to him. “Come on Allura, I was having a good day.” 

 

Allura blinked several times before her eyes narrowed. “What the hell was that last night?” 

 

Lance backed up a step. “Last night?” he cocked his head “You mean at court with father?”

 

“I mean with Shiro.” Posturing her hands on her hips, she brought herself up to her full height. 

 

If they had been younger Lance would have pointed out he was still a couple inches taller. 

 

But they weren’t younger, and it was just another stinging reminder of the spiraling relationship he had with his sister. “What’s your issue with him?” Lance said past gritted teeth. 

 

Allura shook her head. “Don’t you try and pretend you don’t know what I’m referring to. I know you see it too. You clearly saw it last night, I could see it in your face.” 

 

Lance just narrowed his gaze. His mouth set in a tense thin line. 

 

“He was practically prowling last night,” Allura went on, crossing her arms. “With that fierce look he was giving off, he could have been the Black Lion himself.” 

 

“That’s rich,” Lance hissed. “After what you did, in front of the entire court!” Lance shook his head. He slowed his speech to give clear emphasis to his next words.  “I thought you were smarter than that.” 

 

Allura’s eyes lit. “I am trying to set a foundation.” 

 

Lance shook his head. “You’re poking a stick at the nose of a wolf.” The madness his family had descended into was making him sick. “Shiro is the first paladin of Voltron, and you’re undermining him every time you bring Iso up like that.” 

 

There was a rippled of agitation in Allura’s depression. “You know my plans for Iso.” 

 

With a vigorous nod, Lance set his own hands on his hips. “Oh yes I do, and unfortunately for you—so does the rest of the fucking castle!” 

 

“I’m making my alliance clear.” 

 

“That may be from your point of view, but—“ Lance gave a sweeping gesture. “If any of this really comes down to what you’re afraid of, you will regret letting everyone know your intentions.” 

 

Allura stopped at that cocking her had at Lance. There was a quiet for a moment. 

 

“You’re seeing it too, aren’t you? You’re finally seeing it.”

 

Lance shook his head. “I live with him, Allura.” He huffed. “And Shiro, if he’s playing any games, it’s going to be in the shadows. Don’t bring something into the light unless you know—“ Lance broke off. He wasn’t even quite sure what he wanted to say. 

 

“Iso can take care of himself.” 

 

“When Iso gets hot-headed he can’t tell his hand from his peachy dick head!” Lance hissed back. “And you putting a giant target on his back, while rubbing Shiro the wrong way, to do it will just make this worse! 

 

Allura crossed her arms. “What would you purpose I do differently?”

 

Lance threw his hands up in the air. “You’re serious?” 

 

Allura nodded, cocking her hip as she impatiently waited for her brothers reply. 

 

“Why would you care what I think?” Lance shook his head. “My value at this point in time is as the Black Paladin’s mate.” 

 

“You’ve always been worth more to me than that.” ALlura hissed. 

 

Lance wasn’t convinced. “Then tell me what you really feel for Iso. Beyond the fact that he’s the second Paladin of Voltron, or that he’s one of the few fighters, that just might,” Lance paused to emphasize. “just _might_ be able to be Shiro’s equal, or that he might have control over a garrison larger than any nobleman at court. Tell me what you talk about when you’re alone with him.” 

 

Allura blinked. It was as if it was a concept she hadn’t considered Lance to push her on. Her mouth dropped open just a fraction. “Of course, I care for Iso!” She gave an appalled snort. “I’m slightly hurt you would imply otherwise.” 

 

Lance stepped back. “Then announce your engagement.” The words popped out of his mouth before Lance even realized they were less advice and more of a challenge. 

 

“What?” Allura’s arms uncrossed as she shot back. “Lance, it’s too soon.” 

 

“It’s clearly your intention.” Lance just went on. “And just alluding to it will only keep everyone on edge. You need to make this less about picking allies and more about your feelings for him then.” 

 

Allura seemed to consider. She raised her hand to her chin. “Iso won’t go for that.” 

 

“Iso wants to be king.” Lance rolled his eyes as he snarled the words. “And he thinks he’ll get there through you.” 

 

Allura shook her head. “That doesn’t stop the threat of Iso sliding in to Shiro’s place.” 

 

And there it was, clear confirmation. Allura had no feelings for the Red Paladin. She saw strategy in her union with him. 

 

“It will narrow his focus away from you,” Lance provided though his voice had lost some lack luster. 

 

Allura seemed to finally consider. But there was something in the shift of her eyes before she changed the subject.  “What is your real advice?” She tipped her head. “This is unlike you. What do you really want me to do?” 

 

Lance raised himself up. “You won’t do it.” 

 

“Who says?” Allura chided. “I may find it sound.” 

 

“Drop Iso.” 

 

“Lance!” 

 

“I hate him!” Lance huffed. “You don’t even like him! I’m not even sure if Iso’s mother likes him all that well. But beyond that, you’re forcing yourself into a corner. If you ascend without a mate you’ll be considered—more independent. It will look better for you.” 

 

Allura just frowned. “I need him to make sure I do ascend.” 

 

Lance couldn’t help the expression he knew was forming. His mouth sagged in a frown and his eyebrows kneaded together. “Allura—you’re using him.” 

 

“I don’t have options.” Allura shook her head. “You were there, you heard father, Shiro has made himself irreplaceable.” 

 

“So to fend off one wolf you’ll let another into your home?” Lance shot back. He vehemently shook his head. “Iso is worse than Shiro and you know it.” 

 

Allura didn’t react. 

 

It was finally a moment that clicked in Lance’s head. He had never considered—his own sister. 

 

“You know everything I’ve said is true,” Lance breathed. He looked over his sister trying to decipher even the tiniest bit of remorse. “You’re using him. It’s so much more—you are fine with that target on his back. He’s not just a puppet, he’s your shield. If Shiro thinks his fight is with Iso—that leaves you ample room to maneuver.” 

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Allura’s face spoke the most. It was motionless and had pulled on that Queenly veneer that had become her trademark as of late. 

 

There was a flood of ice in Lance’s own veins. He stepped back, his hand going to the thick stone railing of the balcony. His chest rose and fell with a shaky breath. 

 

“I understand all too well.” Lance said surely. “You’re the one that put me between you and Shiro.” 

 

Allura cocked her head. “The marriage was his solution put forward to us—” 

 

“And it was supposed to be you!” Lance hissed with venomous malice towards his sister. 

 

Eyes wide, Allura’s breath seemed to catch in her throat. “Lance—“

 

“I was never supposed to figure that part out, was I?” Lance hissed. 

 

Allura’s face looked caught, stuck in a spotlight she hadn’t fathomed. 

 

“You never involved me until it was absolutely necessary.” Lance spat. “And it’s embarrassing to think it was because you didn’t want me to figure out you were flipping our roles.” 

 

Allura shook her head. “No—Lance— you don’t understand—“

 

“According to you, I understand nothing!” Lance barked. 

 

Allura staggered forward, her hands held out to her brother. “You haven’t needed to! Lance, this—all of this is my territory. Not yours! My sweet baby brother, this is a fight you’ve never engaged in. You still stroll through the gardens everyday, you still take dessert at every opportunity. I love you—“ 

 

“You traded me!” Lance finally felt the sting of tears at his eyes. He looked away from his sister as he pulled in a harsh breath. 

 

Allura stepped closer. “He was so open to a union with you, you have no idea what it was like negotiating with him.“ She shook her head. “The second it became clear a life bond had to be establish—he only wanted you. You don’t know what it was like facing him down like that—” 

 

There was a rift at that moment, as Lance stared up in his sister in disbelief. “You—Allura, the one here that’s ignorant is you.” He shook his head. “If you think his presence is overwhelming in a council room, you have no idea what it’s like to sit next to him in bed, or feel him come up behind you.” 

 

Lance side stepped his sister, stepping away from her. “I can’t—you really...” He breathed out slow before as he pulled breath in he tried to bring himself up to his full height. “I can’t believe it’s taken this long for me to realize you—you used me as a shield out of your own fear.” His brow stitched together in a pained expression. 

 

Allura lunged forward, her hand grasping out to his arm. “Lance, it wasn’t like that—“ 

 

Lance brushed her away. “Don’t.” 

 

Tipping her head, Allura changed tactics. “I need you as an ally, Lance. I need you on my side—“

 

“Then don’t make the same mistake twice.” Lance hissed. His hand raised to brush over his face. “You—don’t do this to Iso. I’ll forgive you, but I’m not so sure he will do so kindly.” 

 

Lance slipped out from the balcony then, hoping his sister would take his advice. 

 

* * *

 

The day was bright and sunny, From the window in the bedroom, Lance could see as the white and light blue tents propped up, long spindly flags waving in the air as the attendees started to come in. There was no missing his father's precession or Allura’s grand entrance. 

 

By the time Lance arrived, dressed in bright blues, to the picnic tents, most of the small, conservative group invited had already arrived. His mind still swirled from the day before but he cordially sat at a table with Hunk and Shay under the cream colored tents. 

 

Of course, running characteristically late, Lance had already missed the opening ceremonies. His father was already sitting at the long head table, laughing with Allura that sat next to him. Out on the grass, it looked as if a few of the games had already started. 

 

Lance frowned, not seeing Shiro out on the lawn. He had thought Shiro was coming… then again he couldn’t blame Shiro. There was nothing official about these games, it wasn’t like the big grand production of the Spring festivals. There were no swordsmanship competitions or archery trials. It was all for fun. It was polo astride elks or stick pulls or javelin throws, nothing that was really challenging probably to Shiro. And there was much going on despite the insistence upon the picnic. 

 

This was an event strictly of friends and family, at most sixty people was there, all fitting under four tents and most all wandered about in the sunny grass. 

 

Much to Lance’s surprise, Pidge took up the seat next to him. She did so though with a deep sigh. 

 

Lance looked over to her. 

 

“You missed the breakfast.” She said unabashed. 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Oh, what a travesty.” 

 

Already slender eyes narrowed on him. “I almost had to talk to someone.” She had brought with her a small crumb cake. “They kept pestering me the whole meal.” 

 

“I’m not sure how I could have helped with that.” 

 

Pidge shook her head as if it were obvious. "If you had been here, I wouldn’t have had to sit by anyone else.” 

 

Lance’s face twisted in an unsure expression. Was this the same Pidge? 

 

Lance didn’t have a moment to dwell though as in a sweeping motion he was suddenly engulfed in the smell—of cloves. The effortless smile on his face he was sure spoke volumes, but Shiro loomed over him, hand on the table to balance himself as he leaned over and down to Lance. Without hesitation, Lance turned his face towards Shiro, wishing very much they were alone so he could bury his face in his partner’s neck. 

 

Shiro was smiling though, and not his more easy smile. It was slightly—mischievous. He leaned forward to peck at the bright blue eye marking at the tip of Lance’s cheek. 

 

“You are rather late,” Shiro spoke in a hushed tone. “Lucky for me.” 

 

Lance hummed. “How is that lucky—“ 

 

Shiro slid up, smiling as he confidently slid a small flower just above Lance’s ear. 

 

A furious rush of a blush crept up on Lance possibly faster than ever as he raised his hand to touch the small flower. It was a powdery lavender bleeding heart. 

 

Shiro’s smile at Lance seemed to grow just a shade more genuine. His eyes shifted up to Pidge. He offered a second flower, this one a bright yellow. “Would you like one, Katie?” 

 

Pidge made a disgusted sound. “Absolutely not!” 

 

“I’d doubted you would,” Shiro chuckled. His eyes turned back to Lance. 

 

Still in awe, Lance felt over the silky smooth petals of the flower. It was so soft. His head tipped just so as he smiled at Shiro. His fingers pulled from the flower as he reached out to Shiro. 

 

“You really brought me a flower,” Lance hummed as he stroked his fingers along the hard line of Shiro’s jaw. 

 

Shiro just gave a simple smile. “Of course,” He offered out the small yellow flower as well to Lance. 

 

Lance gave a small laugh. “You’re giving me Pidge’s cast-offs?” 

 

Shiro fixed a narrow eye on him. “I’ll have you know, that was my backup flower.” 

 

Lance couldn’t help the laugh that burst from him then. “Why in the world would you need a backup flower?” 

 

“You said you wanted one that was blue!” Shiro chuckled along. “I had to find one, and the guards—“ his eyes shifted around but another smile arose. “Lets just say, picking flowers from the royal gardens was a lot harder than I had previously thought it was going to be.” 

 

Lance giggled in utter delight. “Oh my god, you stole a flower for me!” He scooped the yellow flower up holding it close to him. “I’ve married a heinous criminal!” 

 

“It was actually—“ Shiro’s nose scrunched. “I’m really shocked I actually got called on it.” He was already breaking into chuckles. 

 

Lances hands went back to his face, shielding over his eyes. “Please tell me you tried to pull rank over a flower.”

 

“I...” Shiro looked for a moment like he might deny it, till another breathless smile broke. “I actually did. ” Shiro burst out laughing with one of the best smiles Lance had ever seen on his face. “And the humiliating part is they still wouldn’t let me take it! “ 

 

“So you stole one,” Lance giggled. 

 

Pidge next to them snorted. “Yes, I’m sure Shiro will be sent to the prison ships for this!” 

 

Lance just looked smugly at his criminal as he ran his fingers over the yellow flowers velvety petals. 

 

Shiro smiled back, his eyes level with Lance’s in a way that was so horribly pleasant. He swallowed past a sudden bout of shyness, but his body still turned to the table. Leaning over the yellow flower before him, he knew he shyly tipped his head away. 

 

“Looks like the games are starting,” Hunk finally entered into Lance’s peripherals again. 

 

Shiro’s gaze lingered a few moments more before he looked up. 

 

As he straightened to walk away, Lance abruptly reached out his hand, grasping at Shiro’s vehemently. 

 

Shiro stopped, looking back at Lance as he pulled his fingers around Lance’s in a firm grip. 

 

Lance gazed up at him through his lashes, his other hand was at his lips, fidgety and delicate in their long slender nature. 

 

Shiro quirked a smile at Lance, squeezing his hand. 

 

It was enough to build Lance’s confidence up and he pulled his hand from his lips. 

 

“Go win for me,” Lance said softly. 

 

Shiro’s brow raised but the surprise seemed to almost immediately be over taken with warmth as he took a deep bow to Lance, sweeping Lance’s hand up to his lips to press a small kiss. 

 

“Anything for you, my prince.” 

 

With one last lunge in, Shiro pressed in a parting nuzzle to Lance’s bond mark, leaving him smiling and a flutter going though his veins before he was whisked off to the lawns. 

 

Lance sat back in his chair finally, feeling immensely more happy than he had on his way there. 

 

* * *

 

The day was absolutely lovely, Lance observed as he looked around. Even Pidge next to him seemed to perk up as the first competition started. There was plenty of laughter and the drinks started to be poured almost immediately. 

 

Without having to say anything, Lance was given a tall flute of something sparkling gold.  

 

Pidge looked at the spread of cakes and cookies and, farther in, small fish and chicken sandwiches, deviled eggs and salads. 

 

Lance let himself relax as he watched a competition being described to Shiro and several others. His nose twitched as he saw Iso was also standing up there but Lance refrained from comment. From where he was, he could only look up to the grand tent, and the raised table where his father sat. At his father’s right were two seats—empty. Lance pursed his lips. Right, that was where he and Shiro were supposed to have sat…

 

Allura sat on their father’s other side, wearing a light lavender dress that hung from her shoulders by tiny interlocking silver chains. She looked like a goddess. Her hair was strung with small gemstones and her perfectly smooth skin shone with the sort of ethereal nature Lance had never grasped. 

 

But his stomach still churned at the thought of approaching her or speaking to her. He looked away. He’d get over it. But right now he just wanted some space. 

 

So instead Lance looked away to the lawn. 

 

A metal disc spun through the air and struck into a target a good fifty feet away. Shiro stood confidently as he observed his struck mark before his gaze flicked to Lance. He smiled. 

 

Before unexpectedly—he gave a slow wink to Lance. 

 

It wasn’t a dashing wink. It was very deliberate and had a quality of subtlety to it and even more so held an air of confidence Lance knew he as a person entirely lacked. 

 

Lance looked away, his own smile rising as he tried not to blush again. His fidgety hand returned to his lips, as he studied the linen fabric of the table cloth. 

 

“You two are disgusting,” Pidge stated in a flat voice.

 

“I think they’re adorable,” Shay giggled from the other side of the table. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wink at Lance…” Hunk said as offhand information. The way he nodded just slightly suggested he was actually proud of Lance at that moment. 

 

No one ever had, Lance could confirm. A hand came up, covering over his face. He covered his eyes especially. He wasn’t sure he could look at anyone at that moment. 

 

“What is it, Prince Lance?” Shay asked as she leaned into look at him. Her large stone earrings jangled softly as she tilted her head in concern. 

 

“Oh he’s fine,” Hunk waved off with a laugh. “I’m just pretty sure no one has given him this much attention before.”

 

“Lance is a flirt?” Pidge was sitting so straight as she marveled over at Lance, he had to question whether she’d just stood or not. 

 

It was Shay’s giggled answer that popped up first. “The first time I met him, he kissed my hand and told me I ‘rocked his world.’”

 

Lance buried his face more firmly in his hand. He had been fifteen when he’d first met Shay. And if he could manage to do anything at that moment he might have pointed that fact out with vigor. 

 

Hunk was already nodding. “It used to be all the time.” 

 

Lance tried to mount his defense but it was harder then he planned as his mouth opened but no words came to his lips. 

 

“He was really cheesy,” Shay said with a small smile. Her hollow eyes still somehow managed to hold mirth. “It made him very approachable though.” 

 

Pidge turned her gaze to Lance and a sneaky smile started to form. 

 

Lance finally dropped his hand enough to look at her. 

 

“You’re still blushing.” Pidge provided. 

 

Lance almost dropped his head to the table he looked away so hard. 

 

Pidge just laughed. 

 

* * *

 

The servants all bustled around as lunch was served. Unceremoniously, Shiro had picked Pidge up, whom gave an uncharacteristic laugh as he moved her over a chair so he could occupy the seat next to Lance. 

 

His stormy gaze rolled over Lance for a moment. 

 

He managed to handle the brunt of that gaze possibly a whole ten seconds before he looked back down at the table. Shiro’s chuckle beside him was a wonderfully low, gravelly sound as he smiled wide. 

 

“Sir,” A rather slight looking servant approached, “Your highness,” he ducked his head to Lance. “Your sister inquires if you would like to take lunch with them.” 

 

Lance was ashamed to say his gaze didn’t leave the table. As much as he wished he had the same control of his face as his sister—he didn’t and he knew the sweet smile he had just dropped from his features. 

 

Cool and quickly becoming absurdly comforting, a metal hand slid up Lance’s spine. 

 

“Thank the princess, for the both of us, and give her royal highness my regards” Shiro spoke, “But we’re quite comfortable here.” 

 

The servant stopped, biting at their lip as they continued to stand there. They were probably not used to ever having to carry back a negative response. 

 

But Shiro had already looked away with an air of dismissal. 

 

Lance still just looked to the table cloth. His folded arms over the table’s surface did a better job of hiding his gaze. 

 

“She won’t appreciate that.” Lance murmured. 

 

There was only slight nod from his mate, an acknowledgement to Lance speaking. With a wave of his fingers, he brushed the still stammering servant off. 

 

“This isn’t an official event, and both of us are more comfortable here with friends.” Shiro’s voice held ease to it for once Lance noticed. 

 

It was enough that Lance managed to lower his tense shoulders as he looked over at his mate. 

 

“You’re quarreling with her still?” Shiro inquired. 

 

Lance frowned as he sat back in his chair, his voice lowered as he spoke. “She expects unrealistic things—when it's just me its fine, but she’s starting to do it to others.” Lance shook his head. “I’ll recover. I’ll forgive her. I just don’t want to talk to her right now.” 

 

Shiro’s gaze on him was a blank slate. Nothing could be gleaned, but Lance still looked at him. He half expected Shiro to say something wise, something Lance already knew but he was going to confirm. 

 

Instead, Shiro just nodded. 

 

In an instant though, his expression shifted and he leaned forward to run a hand down along the bleeding heart at Lance’s ear. 

 

“It suits you,” He spoke low. “I almost wish I’d managed a few more.” 

 

It was  easy to drift closer to his mate as Lance spoke as well. “Just as I’ve noticed that winning suits you.” 

 

The smile on Shiro’s face curled at one side in a way Lance rarely saw, but still admired. 

 

In the bright sunlight of the warm summer day, there wasn’t much Lance didn’t truly admire about Shiro. But at the same time he scared the hell out of him. The dark shifts of those eyes made Lance fear for everything in his life. But at the same time—it was utterly enchanting. The way Shiro dominated an entire room just by stepping into it. The way he faced off with a king without a single word falling from his lips. 

 

Everything with Shiro was deliberate. 

 

“We are so different, you and I.” Lance whispered. His hand fluttered up to caress his knuckles over Shiro's jaw line. 

 

The smile Shiro gave to lance was just--perfectly his.  “I think I prefer it that way.” 

 

The slender arc of Lance’s brow accompanied a tilt of his head. “I can’t imagine why.” 

 

“Oh, but you should,” Shiro chuckled. “I’m sure you know,” 

 

Lance wasn’t sure he knew at all what Shiro was referring to. 

 

The man only leaned closer to him. “I have no idea why in the courts it’s so common to marry among your own presentation.” 

 

Lance blushed deep crimson, keenly aware of those around him suddenly. “Sh-Shiro,” He squeaked in a hushed voice. 

 

The slight smile on his mate’s face lingered and gave no tell if he was embarrassed. He didn’t push the subject though as his eyes roved over Lance again, seeming to soak in Lance’s flustered blush as he still leaned away back into his chair. 

 

It was unnerving being the focus of that stormy gaze—and exhilarating. 

 

Lance was caught between wanting to look away and not being able to take his eyes from Shiro. 

 

“If I may be so bold,” there was rustling and those around them all stilled as Iso’s voice rang out through the tents from where he stood at the head table. 

 

Lance blinked but his gaze still lingered on his mate. Shiro’s smile at that only deepened and he made a swiping flick of his hand to indicate they should be looking up to the main table, not watching each other. 

 

It seemed inconsequential though, and Lance even let his eyes rest over Shiro for a few more moments before he looked back up to the main table. Shiro had done the same, tilting his head first before his eyes shifted slowly from Lance. It was the sort of lingering Lance was sure he’d never get in his entire life. He felt so entirely numb from it. 

 

“I would like to make an announcement.” Iso’s voice rang clear through the tents. 

 

Those words stirred Lance enough to reality, his body first turned to the head table. 

 

Allura. 

 

Lance knew it was her speaking just upon sight. 

 

Oh no, she wasn’t uttering a word. She sat there in her fine linen dress, looking like the goddess she knew she was destined to become. 

 

But the moment Lance’s eyes landed on Iso, he knew. 

 

Iso was for one, for once, clad in formal attire that was befitting. It was almost as if Lance had dressed him that morning. His clothes fit too close to his frame, the fabrics rich and a dark magenta to highlight the soft almost ethereal white to his blond hair in the midday sun. Beyond that it was all too artfully done. He held a slender flute of something deep red as he smiled to those around him. 

 

Oh what foolishness, Lance thought. He was a puppet thinking he was the master, and all the while behind him his mistress plucked at his strings in a gentle caress. Lance could only guess at his sister’s reasoning, was it really manipulation after all if it came in the form of a gift? 

 

“Though her royal highness, the Princess Allura and I have had much deliberation over this,” Iso smiled, not knowing it was too smug. He wasn’t aware that his eyes were too narrow. “We have decided to announce our engagement to be married.” 

 

Those around them already all broke into soft aw’s and a small roll of gentle clapping broke out. Lance stared at his sister and though pausing—just long enough, just enough to send his sister a clear message Lance pulled on his own pleasant mask. A smile graced his lips and he smoothed his face so his eyes sparked with just enough mirth and he gently gave a small clap as well. 

 

Because unlike the fool that stood before them, Lance was aware that the less he told others with in the palace the better. 

 

Allura smiled as well, but as she looked down at Lance she did mouth one phrase, 

 

‘It was sound advice.’

 

* * *

 

“Your Highness?” 

 

Shiro so rarely addressed him like that anymore. Lance blinked rapidly as he realized the Black Paladin had slid to a knee at Lance’s side, gazing at him. Shiro’s smile was gentle. 

 

He held out his hand, “If I may?” 

 

Lance’s brow creased. 

 

In the moments following the engagement announcement he’d been consumed suddenly with thoughts of—everything. His mind whirled through all the games being played and what his own next moves should be. 

 

“…pardon?” Lance breathed his eyes flicked from Shiro’s hand to his face. 

 

There was a smile there...and it wasn’t... Shiro wasn’t hiding anything with it. It was absurdly shocking at that moment. 

 

“He wants a token.” Shay giggled from behind Lance. “The polo competition is starting.” 

 

“Right,” Lance’s back shot straighter as he tried to look around himself. He had—nothing. His hands scrambled around himself. He hadn’t even bothered with a circlet that morning. And where was at least a handkerchief when you needed one? “Of course.” 

 

“The flower,” Pidge mock coughed from next to him. 

 

There was deep chuckle from Shiro before him, clearly enjoying watching his mate’s flustered scramble. 

 

But—Lance’s fingers went to the flower at the table. Lance hesitated. At least for now. Lance’s eyes alighted to the yellow flower at this fingertips on the table. The blue one was at his ear.

 

He slid his fingers up to it before smiling. Right the one he’s stole for him. Lance smiled as he removed the blue flower before he slid forward in his chair to where Shiro had regally gone to one knee. Carefully Lance slid the blue flower in along Shiro’s shirt pocket. Lance even unclipped and used one of his own blue sapphire and silver cufflinks to secure the flower. 

 

Shiro watched with the sort of amusement he seemed to hold only for Lance before, as Lance finished smoothing his hands over Shiro’s chest, Shiro lifted his eyes to meet Lance’s gaze. His stormy gaze almost caught Lance’s breath as he looked at him but instead Lance managed to give a breathy smile. 

 

“I’ll do my very best to win for you,” Shiro’s smooth deep voice was in a soft tone as if he were speaking to Lance in a private room. 

 

The appreciation Lance gave was to smooth his hands up the column of Shiro’s neck, petting at the edges of his face as Lance admired the stormy gaze still focused on him. As subtly as Lance could he took his hands away in a caress but in such a way that led them down, slipping down to slide just barely over the glands Lance knew were tucked just under Shiro’s jaw line. 

 

If Shiro gave an initial reaction it wasn’t noticeable. His eyes still just lingered on Lance. He dipped forward as he started to rise, the press of a soft kiss to the teal eye markings at Lance’s cheek had Lance squirming with a blush. 

 

He reached out, lacing their fingers just briefly before letting Shiro slip from his grasp. 

 

* * *

 

The game was supposed to be a refined competition. But nothing was ever really refined. Every person in that court had secrets, had flaws and hatreds that ran deeper than was acknowledged. In this, there was no difference. The great elks pawed at the ground as two teams squared off. It was a simple game, knock the ball through the opposing teams poles faster and better than they did while astride the tall elks. 

 

Lance usually never watched. He’d never found it interesting. Besides it usually wasn’t hard to get knocked to the ground. 

 

So as Shiro soared past down the field, striking the ball and sending it flying back towards the goal posts Lance swallowed and his hands fisted in his napkin. 

 

It was just a game. 

 

But was any of this really a game? 

 

Lance cast a look back to his sister. She seemed so demurely unaffected. Allura wasn’t even watching as she chatted with a Duchess at the far end of the table. It didn’t slide past Lance’s notice though the way her eyes shifted through the people present, settling on Lance. 

 

Lance looked away. 

 

There was another thunder of hooves and a whoosh. 

 

It gave him something to look at and Lance focused his gaze away on the competition. 

 

It was the opportune moment as Shiro’s massive black elk streaked across the field and knocked the ball back to his team. But the grey elk Iso rode struck out, hooves hitting the ground on hard impact as he stopped the ball and sent it back with a whack. 

 

It was in too close of quarters though and Lance knew the spark in Shiro's eyes—it was a flash, like a distant storm thundering on the horizon. He jerked his elk back, pivoting and it collided with Iso’s grey. 

 

The grey elk stumbled before dropping to its knees, but more importantly it threw Iso. 

 

There was a collective gasp from those watching. 

 

Lance went still as his eyes tracked back over to his family members. His father watched intently, but gave no sign of distress. Allura sat up straighter first, her posture taking on that queenly manner as she lifted her chin and looked out to Iso. 

 

Iso had landed with an ‘oomf.’ 

 

Shiro’s team members had regained control of the ball and were sending it back towards the goal posts, but Shiro stayed where he was. 

 

His elk was restless and Shiro had to rein him in as he looked down at Iso on the field. 

 

Out of the corner of Lance’s vision, he saw Allura carefully stand. 

 

In front of him, Lance almost thought—he almost saw the ghost of a smile on Shiro’s face. 

 

Iso groaned and pushed up to an elbow. 

 

Lance watched Shiro though as the restless elk underneath him gave an impatient sound and pawed, tearing up the ground under its hooves. 

 

Shiro was purposefully looking down at Iso, watching him. 

 

Lance still didn’t move, his gaze on Iso. 

 

It would be so easy for Shiro to—His elk was now rearing lowly, his front feet bouncing up as it watched the action in the distance. 

 

Suddenly though, Shiro jerked on the reins, bringing the beast under firm control before he slide off smoothly. 

 

It was when Shiro stepped up to Iso, gaze still down. Lance sucked in a sharp breath. At the edges of his vision he saw his sister take a step forward. 

 

It was all just a game. 

 

Then without hesitation Shiro offered a hand. 

 

Iso looked up at him, his expression was unreadable but after a moment he gave the slightest of shake of his head. He pushed himself all the way up and to his feet, completely ignoring Shiro’s hand. 

 

As he stood, Iso gave an unveiled glare to the Black Paladin before he narrowly missed running into Shiro as he strode off towards his elk. 

 

Lances eyes lingered on Shiro a moment more. 

 

He was unreadable. His stance was still perfectly straight, He’d dropped his rejected hand as he gave one last look after Iso before he himself turned to his black elk. He mounted effortlessly and with a kick of his heels was trotting back into the game. 

 

Immediately Lance looked to his sister. 

 

She was trying very much to hide it, to stomp down her emotion under a blank face and an elegant hand poised on the table. 

 

But Lance had been around his sister far longer than anyone else under those tents and he could see it in her subtle details. 

 

The hand not on display was holding her skirt though a bit too tightly. Her eyes were leveled on Iso, not wavering from her mark. 

 

It was all just a game. 

 

But Iso had just misplayed. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)
> 
> My sweet, bright, beautiful Beta: [Cosmosclouds](http://cosmosclouds.tumblr.com/)


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i), [Shiro and Lance by Vero](https://mobile.twitter.com/roseraiess/status/976300378114281473)

Once the sun started to set, the servants brought out lanterns. It was a warm night and the lanterns gleamed through stained crystalline glass.

In the distance, Lance could see the glitter of lanterns lighting the gardens as well, lining the walkways and glittering through the tents.

The grand dinner was well underway, more guests, those not invited to the days festivities started to line in, a servant announcing a nobleman or duchesses arrival every now and then. They came in long dresses and gleaming jewelry. Lance looked around himself in a sense of detachment. He’d always dressed for these sort of occasions before, he’d always been eager to wear sparkling circlets and shimmering fabrics.

Yet—Lance wondered what in the past couple of months had changed. Now it all looked so silly, so worthless.

It was then Shiro finally returned to him, his hand sliding over Lance’s shoulder as he approached from behind. Lance didn’t look away from the steady stream of people all coming. He clasped at Shiro’s hand though, eager to feel his mate’s warmhand.

“Your highness,” Shiro bent close to his ear.

Lance smiled, blinking in a way he knew was long and slow and fluttered his lashes as he tipped his head up to see Shiro.

Shiro was smiling at him as well, gently, and perfectly. “I think I’d like to take you on that walk,” Shiro’s gaze flitted towards the gardens before looking back to Lance.

It sounded like the best idea Lance had ever heard. With a gentle nod and a smile, Lance gazed over his shoulder at Shiro.

The smile his mate gave him had Lance near swooning.

Then easily Shiro slid his hand before him, offering it to Lance.

Without a second thought, Lance grazed his fingers over Shiro’s palm and let his Black Paladin guide him up and with a chuckle start leading him away to the gardens.

 

* * *

 

Quickly Shiro led them away, guiding Lance with a light touch to his back away from the gleaming lanterns and lit trails off around to the hidden paths filtering deeper into the gardens.

Lance complied easily enough. Something about the day—it was lovely. And he wanted nothing to do with the games any longer.

“I have something for you,” Shiro had slid behind Lance again. He was smirking this time as his hands on Lance’s hips guided him on which way to go.

“Oh?” Lance inquired. He tipped his head to demurely look over his shoulder this time. “Another gift?”

Shiro smiled. “I’ve never given you a gift before.”

Lance shook his head. “No, you have.”

Shiro raised his brow. “I’m not sure that flower counts.”

“I like it rather a lot though,” Lance hummed.

Shiro’s chuckle was deep and throaty as he tugged Lance back, directing him to a narrow path through the hedges. “It’s this way.”

Lance gave Shiro one of his signature looks, tipping his head just so as he stepped away from him and through the tall hedges.

Shiro didn’t let him go easily and in fact hugged him closer first, nuzzling into his neck.

Lance giggled but managed to slip from his fingers as he danced away. “You know,” He started as he put a few steps between them, “I have no idea what you really think would be new to me in these gardens.”

Shiro’s smile only widened.

With a look away, Lance fluttered ahead.

Like a game of cat and mouse, Shiro stepped after him. As Lance turned down one way, Shiro gently reached out a hand at his waist to pull him back to the correct direction. Quickly Lance would step away though, a teasing look as he stayed just out of Shiro’s reach.

But with a confident air Shiro just trailed after him. His deep stormy eyes followed Lance.

It wasn’t till they were near the center of the gardens that Shiro’s hands shot out, capturing Lance.

A blush stained Lance’s cheeks and he swayed in Shiro’s hold as he was embraced close.

“This way,” Shiro breathed into Lance’s ear as he stepped around the hedges and pulled Lance with him. “Your father actually informed me this little spectacle was here.” Shiro’s voice rumbled through Lance.

With a hum, Lance was already melting back into his mate. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Shiro was smiling again. “I hear your mother was quite the wonder.”

Lance always lit up at the mention of her. “I wish I knew.” He nuzzled in at Shiro’s neck. “I always have this image in my head of her, like a shooting star. So brilliant, and bright, a truly once in a lifetime event, and yet over so quickly. She burned out before I ever got a glimpse.” Lance smiled himself. “I think my father views her similarly. The star he gave everything to try and catch.”

The deep rumble of Shiro’s hum sent Lance’s eyes rolling back. It was so deep it resounded through Lance’s bones. He loved it.

“If he adored her even an ounce as much as I adore you, I can understand why.” Shiro hummed as he pulled them a few more steps deeper into the gardens.

Lance was blushing again. His hand raised to run over Shiro’s head, his fingers threading through his hair. “You are quite full of flattery tonight.”

Shiro connected their gaze for a moment then, but he only leaned forward to press a kiss to Lance’s head.

He was turning though, his arm shifting Lance, deliberately keeping him from seeing behind himself.

“We’re here.” He urged though his eyes cast behind Lance before flicking to lock gazes with him for just a brief moment.

Lance hummed and tried to turn slowly—but

He blinked.

It was lunar lilies.

Shiro had brought him to a sparkling white lunar Lily fountain. And around them—in the grass were moon orchids.

Lance was smiling so effortlessly as he slipped from Shiro’s hands. There was a gasp on his lips already as the lilies opened, the crisp white-blue light emitted from each as they looked up to Varr alight over head. They filled the fountain so thickly, all crowded in. Lance could barely see glimpse of stars reflected in the fountain’s water.

It was like having a galaxy—contained into such a small space.

“I’ve been here,” Lance whispered.

He pivoted to Shiro who was smiling as he stepped forward casually.

“This fountain is so—during the day, it’s nothing like this. I thought it was just filled with greenery.” Lance shook his head, turning back to continue marveling.

The light given off was so bright it illuminated the entire clearing, casting around at the flowers around and the refracting off the surrounding hedges.

“Every thing just needs the right conditions to shine,” Shiro’s voice had taken on a smooth quality.

His eyes were before him as he easily strolled out around the circular fountain. His hands were clasped behind him as he himself took in the spectacle.

With not quite as much regal nature, Lance started his way round the other side of the fountain. He couldn’t stop the smile on his face as he looked to the luminescent flowers all open before him.

But as their paths seemed destined to, as Lance rounded the fountain, his gait an easy stroll, he could peak Shiro again. The man had stopped, standing at the fountain’s edge, though this time his eyes followed Lance.

As if it were natural, Lance stopped a step or two away and extended his hand.

There was another crook of a smile before Shiro lifted his own hand and in the twist of fingers their hands interlocked and entangled, arms both stretched out the distance between them.

Lance tipped his head before he cast his eyes back out to the white and silver lilies.

There was a deep hum from Shiro then, it wasn’t intrusive so much as —appreciative, before his own gaze turned to the fountain.

“Yes,” Lance didn’t even realize the word had come from him till he was looking up.

Shiro perked up as well, his hand shifted into an easier grasp of Lance’s hand.

Opening his mouth, Lance tried to explain. “I—“ He just shook his head. “Yes.” he repeated again.

Shiro’s head tipped as he took a cautious step closer. “Lance?”

“I want you.” Lance finally managed to bring the confession to his lips. “I—“

This man—he’d dashed Lance’s world to pieces. And lit Lance’s insides so beautifully.

Shiro hadn’t said anything, still venturing closer, his head was still tipped towards Lance.

It was subtly that recognition seeped into Shiro. He stood a bit taller, his chin lifted. His eyes were narrow as he drifted closer to Lance. “Lance…” He repeated.

Lance already knew the question Shiro was going to ask though so he beat him to it. “I’m sure.”

But the stormy gaze on him was still critical as Shiro spread his fingers in Lance’s hand, flexing just slightly in Lance’s hold, as if to make a point. “I don’t—“ he started. “I may not have it in me to hold back—if you change your mind.”

Lance shook his head. “I won’t.”

The last step between then, seemed so long and slow as Shiro reached down, taking Lance’s other hand, clasping both up to his lips.

“I don’t ever want you to regret something.” Shiro spoke in a low, gentle tone before lifting Lance’s knuckles up to his lips, pressing a small kiss.

“I don’t regret this,” Lance whispered. “I don’t regret anything between us.”

That earned him a single laugh and Shiro lifted his hand, untangling it from Lance’s fingers to brush through his soft hair.

“You will.” Shiro said softly. “There will be things you regret with us. If I’m not careful you’ll regret ever even meeting me.”

Lance shook his head. “I don’t know how I could.” He stole forward, closer to Shiro. “You’ve said you won’t hurt me.”

Shiro gave a deeper chuckle at that, though the sound was — sullen and it never touched his eyes. Leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to Lance’s hair, the whisper into Lance’s soft dark hair was barely audible. “I already have.”

Lance chose that moment to keen as he pressed closer, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed up to his paladin. “I don’t believe that.” He breathed. “You won’t hurt me.”

“Such faith is poorly placed,” Shiro turned his head just as he spoke. Looking down, he breathed the words over Lance’s lips.

“You’ve never lied to me,” Lance hummed, his eyes were closed now, his body leaning so far forward, he teetered, his breath coming in gasps. “You’re the only one here that’s never done that.”

“I’m selfish,” Shiro hissed then.

“Only when it comes to me,” Lance corrected, a smile gracing his lips. “Exactly how I prefer it.” He gave a breathy gasped single laugh.

There was a deep chuckle to accompany and this time Shiro’s lips raised in a smile. Lance was so close this time he could feel every note of the chucle tremble through him.

“Yes, I am entirely self serving when it comes to you.”

“Good,” Lance reiterated.

“I’ll never give you back.” Shiro’s voice was gravelly, his hand was at Lance’s chin pointing it up to him.

Lance’s eyes were already lidded. He shook his head. “I don’t want to go back.” he said. “I just want to move forward with you.”

“Lance,”

It was the only warning Lance received before both of Shiro's strong hands were on Lance, pulling him, forcing him to fall into Shiro.

The fall was utter bliss though, and Shiro caught him effortlessly, his hands framing Lance’s face, fingers smoothly sliding under Lance’s jaw line and caressing over the bond mark.

It sent a gasping tremble through Lance just as their lips collided and Shiro gave a deep growl of satisfaction.

And Lance—his entire world zeroed in on the man he held, on the moment he was caught in. The soft glow around him and the hungry way his mate kissed him made Lance keen. Lance’s own arms surged up and he was clambering his way to petting his hands across Shiro’s face.

Their smearing lips parted just enough for Lance to give a whining, “Yes.”

Shiro hummed as he stepped Lance back, surging forward again to have Lance gasping and swept up in his arms.

There was nothing left for Lance to do beyond—letting Shiro have him, letting him have everything.

 

* * *

 

When Shiro laid Lance back amongst the tall grass and gleaming moon orchids, Lance was surprised at how soft it was. It still had the texture of grass but it wasn’t the unyielding hard ground Lance had expected.

Shiro knelt over Lance, his hands slowly undressing Lance, one button at a time. He lavished every revealed inch of Lance’s skin.

Resting his head back, Lance let out a contented sigh, his hands coming up to possessively curl around Shiro’s head. Shiro gave a rumbling hum of acknowledgement but he didn’t stop licking along Lance’s collar bone.

“You’re spoiling me,” Lance murmured contentedly but his back arched, seeking Shiro’s warm touch even more.

Shiro hummed an answer, shifting up on his knees, his mouth forging a hot trail up the column of Lance’s neck and around, ending in a hot panted breath over Lance’s ear, making him shiver before Shiro closed in on Lance’s earlobe, tugging at it just enough to make Lance whine.

When Shiro finally decided to let his warm breath flow into words, he was squarely over Lance, “You’re a prince, the acolytes insist you have the blood of gods running through your veins—and I haven’t been afforded a proper opportunity to worship you yet.”

Lance hummed as he lolled his head back, looking up into Shiro’s gaze.

“I’m offering you anything,” Lance reminded. “I’ll do whatever you like this time.”

That made Shiro smile. “Yes, I know.”

“So why are you wasting the opportunity?” Lance chuckled.

Shiro had shifted his gaze, his eyes pouring over Lance, the same way his breath had been a few moments before, hot and hungry.

“After tonight, there is a lot of things I’ll take from you,” Shiro murmured. He moved his mouth against Lance’s skin as he talked, speaking the words so close to him, Lance felt like every single one was being inscribed on him. “So—this time, right now. I wanna lay in revelry of the demigod offering himself to me.”

The red that rose to Lances’s cheeks was accompanied with a sharp intake. “Shiro..” He whined, not sure what else to say.

Shiro was already adjusting his hands, slowly unbuttoning Lance’s shirt again. “You’re absolutely ethereal.” he smoothed a long, lingering lick up over Lance’s bond mark.

“Ohhhhh,” Lance involuntarily let out, his eyes flicking closed and his mouth drooping open. His bottom lip trembled through the cry and his hands instinctively clawed at Shiro.

“I will give you entire galaxies one day.” Shiro’s hot breath seared the words across Lance’s skin.

“I will forge you solar systems.”

Lance hummed, his hands clutching as Shiro’s every word spoken over the bond mark sent tremors through him.

“I will give you an empire ready to worship you.”

His limbs felt restless and Lance’s legs started to curl up, wrapping around Shiro’s hips. He desperately wanted to be closer to his Black Paladin.

“But in the process, I may take everything from you,”

“Yessss,” Lance shook his head. “It’s yours, please Shiro. I’m yours.”

“I know,” Shiro nodded.

Lance turned his head, meeting Shiro nose to nose this time. “Then why are you waiting?” Lance knew there was an edge of desperation in his voice but he couldn’t hold it back.

Shiro’s head tipped, bringing his lips just over Lance’s. He closed the minuscule distance for a soft precious moment before this time his words came out in a hushed tone. “You were forced to hand yourself over to me,” Shiro’s head shook just slightly. “I never wanted that.” He kissed Lance again ever so quietly. “I wasn’t going to whittle away at some captive of mine.”

Lance shook his own head. “That’s not—“

Shiro silenced him with a kiss. “I know.” he broke. “It’s a gift this time, not a tribute.”

Unsure of what to say, Lance just nodded. “Yes.”

It was his Galra hand that slid over Lance’s clothed groin.

Eyes flicked closed, Lance let out a slow breath, one sucked in by Shiro as he still hovered over Lance.

“I love the way you look in this moon light.” Shiro’s sincerity always caught Lance off guard.

His metal hand moved over Lance, making Lance catch his breath. His hands went to Shiro’s arms, clutching at them.

“Hhhmmmm,” Lance hummed, trying to calm down.

Shiro slid down to the elbow of his supporting arm and thrust his hand up, fingers splayed over the bond mark.

Lance swallowed and his fingers curled in Shiro’s shirt sleeves. Why weren’t they naked yet? Why was there only small peaks of Lance’s chest from his open shirt? Lance wanted Shiro’s skin on his own. He wanted to feel the cool warmth of the moon orchids and lunar lilies around them. He wanted to see how the luminescent flowers refracted off of Shiro’s skin.

Working to remedy that, Lance surged up, connecting their lips for just a moment before he broke, his hands clawing his own shirt up and off, tossing it to the grass. When he lay back—

Shiro’s own breath had caught for once, his eyes roving over Lance.

In the moonlight, Lance—glowed. The bright blue markings across his shoulders and farther down lit up under the clear night sky.

Lance more tentatively lay back. The Galra hand framing his—Lance blushed. Before Lance could further process Shiro took his hand away, moving it up.

“I’ve never taken the time to notice these,” cool, metal fingers skimmed over the edges of Lance’s pelvic bone and down, tracing along the edges of Lance’s hip markings.

“They—“ Lance blushed. “They’re lighter than the others.”

“Both extend farther down?” Shiro inquired.

Lance nodded.

That’s what prompted Shiro to his knees, sitting up, his hands both went to Lance’s trousers. First framing Lance’s hips as if to size them up, Shiro’s touch lingered on his skin before finally he dug his fingers around the waist band. There was a swift yank, sending Lance’s shoulders falling back to the grass, but effectively pulling Lances trouser’s down past his hips. A few more tugs and Shiro had Lance completely nude and laid out before him.

“They are lovely indeed.” His voice rumbled in one of the most pleasant ways Lance had ever heard.

The markings were slender in line work and radiated from the peaks of both his hips.

“There’s another,” Lance shyly pressed.

Shiro perked up in interest.

“I mean you’ve probably already seen it, but—“ Lance blushed. “It’s on my back.”

“I think I’d like to refresh my memory.” Shiro purred.

Lance nodded and with the guiding hold of one cool smooth hand and another blazing hot, Lance turned, presenting Shiro with his back.

At the middle of his back and extending down in a delicate line was a slender but long marking, leading down the line of Lance’s spine, stopping a couple inches before his tail bone. Like the others, in the moonlight it was a lit, luminous bright blue.

“The acolytes said it’s an anomaly.” Lance murmured. “No one else in my family has a marking along their spine like that.”

Shiro hummed, his hand was already smoothing over Lance’s skin, skimming up the side of his slender waist.

“I know it’s not traditional,” Lance mumbled. “It doesn’t have a pair, like on my stomach or anything—”

“It’s breathtaking,” Shiro stopped Lance, leaning over him, his hand’s holding Lance to the grass as Shiro bowed over him.

The words were spoken into Lance’s neck, against his mark again.

Lance felt like he could barely gasp for air as Shiro hunched over him, he tipped his head to kiss just at the tippy top of Lance’s spine.

His next kiss touched down at the tip of the mark, but this time Shiro opened his mouth, dragging his lavish praise down the mark and in through the curve of Lance’s spine.

Simultaneously Shiro’s hands framed Lance’s hips and slowly his thumbs started to rub circles in over—

“Oh—ohhh!” Lance gasped.

His toes curled and uncurled squirming across the grass under his mate.

There was warmth first and Lance’s eyes flicked closed. By this point he knew what the buzz through his lower spine meant. He worried at his lip.

Shiro didn’t stop or even slow though, he shifted on his knees, accommodating Lance to spread out before him as Shiro hunched over him, his mouth trailing lower.

“Shiro.” Lance whined.

There was a hot puff of breath Lance knew signified a smile.

“Good boy.” Shiro murmured low.

Lance’s limbs oozed across the grass from the praise. His splayed out, eyes droopy and breath coming in panted waves.

Shiro returned his mouth to Lance’s spine, nearing over the bump of his coccyx.

His hands moved down, giving one last toe curl inducing pressed swipe up over the glands at Lance’s hips.

“Nuhh,” the shivered whine Lance gave seemed to stop Shiro for a moment.

“I love the sounds you make.” Shiro spoke casually.

Lance huffed a laugh. “Is that why you keep—uhhh,”

Shiro’s hands framed over Lance’s ass and swiftly had him up on his knees and presenting. They didn’t just spread him though—a cool metal thumb had slipped in at his entrance, sliding in swift and fast.

“What was that?” Shiro asked.

His feigned ignorance made Lance huff out a laugh. His arms were still thrown out over the grass, his hands fisting tufts of it.

“You’re the worst.” Lance managed.

It was a happy hum that Shiro gave.

But in the next second he was descending again and Lance—

Lance fucking froze. his eyes wide and his lips trembled as Shiro—

His lips were soft and gentle as they moved down slowly, maybe trying to give Lance plenty of time to process and mentally be ready for what was about to happen.

The slick leaking out over Shiro’s metallic hand made a wet sound as Shiro pulled his hand away and pushed his hands farther apart ,spreading Lance more, enough that as Shiro’s lips mouthed down lower…

It was a lick at first.

“Uhh,” Lance squeaked past the bottom lip firmly between his teeth.

It felt—foreign. Lance couldn’t quite say good at that point, it was too—new and different. His body strung with tension and from the way Shiro’s hands shifted it wasn’t a fact lost on him by any means.

“If you need me to stop,” Shiro’s voice was his usual level of controlled and collected. “just let me know, Lance.”

Lance nodded. He was mostly aggravated that he was a fucking mess and the man over him was still the perfect dictionary definition of control.

“Keep going,” Lance managed.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying it,” Shiro commented, his voice still level.

Lance pushed out a slow breath. The breathy chuckle he gave was a bit more unintentional. “I’m unsure about it, if I’m honest.”

Shiro nodded and pressed forward to press a kiss to Lance’s tail bone. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Lance sputtered with another nervous laugh.

“You can tell me to stop.” Shiro reassured.

He dipped in again, though licking longer and wet—his mouth made a clicking sound as his tongue moved over Lance. It slid through the slick already coming from Lance and over fiercely sensitive skin.

Lance panted harder. It was still—he was so unsure.

“Asking you to stop I would say would directly contradict—“

Shiro licked again, this time his tongue probing and pushing.

“Mmnmmm,” Lance bit his bottom lip again. “What’s it supposed to feel like?”

There was a warm huff over his wet entrance. “good.”

Another lick, still pushing and wet.

“That’s vague.” Lance grunted.

Shiro hands squeezed at Lances ass, pulling him open as he licked in and this time—

“Mhhhh,” Lance’s shoulders slumped.

His tongue wiggled inside before Shiro sealed his lips over him—and sucked.

“Ohhh,” Lance barely managed. His knees underneath him shot up, trying so fiercely hard to present up to Shiro.

There was a wet slurp as Shiro pulled away and chuckled. “Like that,” He commented evenly. “It’s supposed to feel like that.”

Lance cracked his eyes open, his voice still breathy as he spoke. “I think I’m still unsure,” He smiled. “Maybe you should try it again.”

He sucked harder this time, drawing Lance’s breath out in gasps. His hands were kneading at his ass and he chuckled again as he pulled off.

“Sass like that may get you into trouble.”

Lance smiled devilishly as he rest his forehead on the grass. “I’ll reserve it for just you then.”

“I think you as a whole should be reserved for just me,”

His voice startled Lance. If was gravely spoken close to Lance’s ear in a hushed sort of tone—it was one so clearly reserved just for Lance.

Shiro had shifted, blanketing over Lance in the second or two Lance wasn’t paying attention. His hand carefully slid up from Lance’s ass, sliding over every gland on the way before skimming down Lance’s arm and carefully his fingers carved through the grass, holding him steady over Lance.

The new rush of hormones through him, brought a smile to his lips as Lance keened back into his lover. He was so warm over him. Lance hadn’t noticed the chill of the night around him till Shiro was over him, his body warmth seeping out over Lance’s bare skin.

Shiro’s light crisp shirt skimmed over Lance’s flesh. At some point a few buttons had been undone but the shirt was still on. As well—as Lance arched up, nuzzling back into his paladin—he smiled. It was immensely flattering as he felt the coarse strained material of Shiro’s trousers, his groin sliding over Lance’s bare ass.

Shiro tucked his head, kissing a small peck at the peak of Lance’s shoulders just over the delicate glowing marks.

“I really like you.” Lance admitted then.

Shiro’s mouth broke in a breathy smile. “I picked up on that.”

“You wanted my sister first.” Lance said.

Shiro didn’t comment.

“It makes sense.” Lance nodded to himself. “She’s very pretty.”

“Lance,” Shiro’s voice was a growl this time, his mouth surged forward to carve his teeth over the bond mark at Lance’s throat.

“Uhhhnnn,” Lance’s eyes rolled up as his world focused back to Shiro again. His hips pointed back, grinding up into Shiro. The rush of feeling was blinding through Lance

“I can assure you—it wasn’t—”

It was possibly one of the first times Shiro seemed a loss for words.

“I don’t know what end game you’re playing,” Lance breathed out slow.

Shiro’s cool metal hand still was at Lance’s hip. It tightened, just a bit, jut enough that Lance’s eyes flicked downward.

“Not with you.” Shiro murmured low.

“I’m a prince,” Lance answered. “I’ll always be a piece on the board regardless.”

The hungry way Shiro kissed over Lance’s bond mark suddenly had Lance crying out, his breath leaving him as he arched up into his mate, his fingertips pushing into the grass as hard as he could.

“You’re my prince,” Shiro’s breath was over the bond mark and his mouth still open before—  
this time—it hit Lance so much harder. "I won't let you be used." the grit of in his voice was nearly startling.

The booming drumming sound against his throat shook through Lance, trembling through his limbs. The Alpha call was uttered so close to him.

There was something cool between them, working it way with traced fingertips down Lance’s skin and—

“ohh,” Lances lips trembled, his limbs shaking as he tried to hold himself up and against Shiro’s warm chest.

The metal fingers slid into him, through the slick and saliva Shiro had left. It was a gentle movement but thick with intent as the first finger drove into him.

“You are second to none.” Shiro’s harsh words thundered out before he growled another alpha call over Lance’s jugular.

Bitting his lip again, Lance shook his head.

The second finger slid in against the first, the two thrusting into him this time more rhythmic.

“Shiro,” Lance gasped, hoping it would placate his Alpha.

It only elicited another call. The booming chuff hit every last tender nerve through Lance, shaking out through him.

He was being stretched almost immediately as the third finger entered him. Lance shivered. The cool metal palm brushed across his bare skin with every thrust.

With more effort than he considered, Lance twisted, his weight settling onto one hand as the other moved back, following the line of Shiro’s body, his fingers brushed over his cloths as his hand moved towards his trousers.

There was an approving hummed growl on the mark, a kiss pressed in as Lance twisted, his body pressing more flush into Shiro.

The fingers inside him, worked at stretching him more, scissoring as they thrust.

Lance gulped for air as his own fingers found what he’d wanted. Prying Shiro’s pants open one-handed took him some concentration and a bit of fiddling but once the button was loose—the dark blue trousers popped open, revealing the tightly confined bulge Lance had been aiming for. His hand backed up then, pushing Shiro’s shirt up enough he could slide his hand across his abdomen.

There was a shift then, so fast Lance’s breath left him in a whoosh. Shiro had shifted, his metal hands fingers still buried to the knuckles, but his other hand—Shiro had pulled his arm out from under him, his shoulder hitting the grass and now his support.

Now free, Shiro’s unoccuppied hand was splayed up over Lance’s throat, his palm over Lance’s bobbing Adam’s apple.

The chuffed call over Lance’s mark brought him back to realize he had intentions.

Lance hummed in answer, tipping his head back, and baring his throat as fully as he could to Shiro, his head resting back against Shiro’s cheek.

Simultaneously, Lance smoothed his hand over Shiro’s skin, pushing his hand down, dipping past the hem of Shiro’s boxer briefs and—

The pleased throaty growl he received was answer enough.

Lance let out a laugh, smiling as he tried to hold himself steady. “You can’t leave me hanging, big guy.”

Shiro chuckled. And realizing his hand had stilled, he started to move his fingers again, thrusting inside Lance at a good rhythm this time.

Lance closed his own fingers around Shiro.

That was the first groan Lance felt like he’d ever earned from his mate. Deep and gravelly, Shiro’s mouth had fallen open.

Lance didn’t stop either, he tugged and pushed at Shiro’s trousers and boxer briefs until he could slide Shiro’s cock out. It was—Lance noticed how heavy it was in his hands. He tried to glance down at it, though twisted as he was, he could barely make it out.

it was flushed dark and the finely sculpted head was smooth against Lance’s fingers.

“Uhhh,” Lance suddenly cried as the fingers in him curled.

“I want you,” Shiro panted against Lance’s neck.

His hand still behind him, Lance gave a long squeezing stroke, his thumb circling over the head. “Uh huh,” Lance murmured.

Shiro’s first reaction was a chuckle.

Lance just smiled. He closed his eyes as he stroked Shiro off again. his head resting back he moved his hips along with Shiro's fingers. “mnnmm,”

Shiro’s head fell forward at Lance’s attention, his forehead resting on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance loved the weight of it and he turned his face, breathing into Shiro’s ear this time.

“Move your hand?” he asked softly.

Shiro’s eyes cracked and he looked at him for just a moment before he gave a slight nod.

Slick and now warm Shiro’s metal fingers pulled from Lance.

The feeling of it slithered up Lance’s spine making him suck in breath sharply. “Oh,”

He wasn’t deterred though and as Shiro let his hand rest at the swell of Lance’s ass, Lance craned his head back, trying to watch as he carefully guided Shiro—

The full on moan from Shiro tremored all the way down to Lance’s bones, as easily the head slid in.

Taking his hand away, Lance untwisted back, settling on his elbows in the grass.

It was—a lot more than Shiro’s fingers. It burned through his stretched muscles just slightly too much. Lance panted, trying to settle his nerves before he went any farther.

Shiro’s cool metal hand pet across Lance’s hip, trying to ease the intrusion before Shiro moved as well.

Involuntarily, Shiro shifting onto his knees, sliding him farther in.

“SHIRO!” Lance gasped, crying out as a hand flew back behind him, “Shi-ro. Please not yet.”

Shiro was hunched over him in half a second. “I’m sorry baby,” He gasped. “I’m sorry.” His metal hand smoothed up Lance’s spine, slow and intentional. “Shhh. I’ve got you.”

A small keening sound still escaped Lance as his head dropped forward.

“I’ll let you move back when you’re ready, kay?” Shiro’s soft voice was at Lance’s ear.

Nodding, Lance replied. “Kay.”

It was still a slight twinge of discomfort so Lance only pressed his hips back a little. Immediately it was burning uncomfortably again as he took in a bit more.

“It’s okay, lovely.” Shiro cooed. “Take however long you need.”

“I want you,” Lance whined. As if that was a valid argument, as if that would make up for his shortcomings.

“You’ve already got me,” Shiro’s hand moved back down Lance’s spine.

This time the calming hormones that went through him made Lance’s body sag into the grass.

Determined though, Lance planted his hands and pushed up, he pushed his ass back into Shiro.

They both cried out, Lance’s open mouth gasping and whines and keening sounds leaking out all over. In return, Shiro over him cursed and groaned, his hand on Lance going instantly from caressing to grabbing at him, his fingers digging into Lance’s hip.

“Baby,” Shiro hissed into Lance’s ear.

But Lance felt no emotion pouring through him but satisfaction. He side-eyed up at his partner. His shoulders shook and his breath was short but he had managed to take Shiro all the way back to the hilt in one fell swoop.

Lance closed his eyes as he rest his head back, nuzzling into Shiro’s neck and against his jawline. “I’m yours.”

 

* * *

 

At first, the thrusts were slow, shallow. Shiro was, if possible, more gentle than Lance had ever imagined him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro murmured low into Lance’s skin as he pulled him closer.

They ended up on their side in the grass, making it easier for Shiro to gather Lance into his chest as his hips pistoned into him.

“You’re doing so good,” Shiro whispered in against Lance’s hair.

The night around them was cold, But Lance felt so warm against Shiro, his hand came up, fingers threading through the short hair at the sides of his military cut.

“You’re so perfect,” Shiro cooed to him, his mouth barely leaving the bond mark alone.

And Lance—he melted. His body felt boneless with the onslaught of sensations. From Shiro’s arms tucked around him, holding him close, to the amazing warmth, to the stark feeling of Shiro's clothes against his skin. Then there was his breath, it washed over Lance’s neck and across his jawline, tingling across the bond-mark with every exhale. Above all else though, was the way Shiro dragged himself out of Lance, slow and steady before plunging back in.

All of it was smoothed over by the gooey wonderful praise Shiro poured over Lance.

“Shiro,” Lance whined, his head hitting back against the meat of Shiro’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Shiro breathed in a groan.

His arms constricted tighter against Lance. His metal hand held Lance closer, winding around his ribcage and up to frame his hand at the side of Lance’s neck, his thumb just under Lance’s chin pointing his face back. His other hand, smooth skin slid over skin as Shiro let his hand travel down the length of Lance.

“Ohhh,” Lance panted, his voice hoarse as he turned into Shiro’s neck.

Shiro’s hand didn’t stop though, slowly and in gently time with his thrusts he squeezed his fingers around Lance and started to stroke.

“You are so breathtaking.”

Lance’s hips squirmed, caught between fucking himself back on Shiro’s cock and fucking his own through Shiro’s fingers. His own slick made a wet squelch every time Shiro’s hips snapped forward to take him.

“I’m—“ Lance huffed, his eye’s could barely stay open.

He couldn't stay still, he felt too hot and like all he wanted was to lay in Shiro’s warmth forever. He couldn’t help but rock himself against Shiro and nuzzle into him.

“Baby,” Shiro’s voice was tremoring its own thread of lost control.

“I’m so—“ Lance gasped.

There was another pounding thrust into him, sliding through his slick and alighting him so fucking high his toes curled.

“Don’t stop,” Lance gasped as he finally broke.

His vision broke into shattered white and his back arched like it was stung with a live wire. He gasped and panted and he felt Shiro’s hand on him, slowly milked ever last drop from him, not picking up speed, just slowly bringing Lance through his orgasm.

Then he was impaled again, Shiro's thrust unrelenting and Lance cried out.

It was so good, so good each thrust only drew it out longer and longer till Lance was incoherent and murmuring nonsense against his mate.

“That’s it,” Shiro’s voice as all growl at that point.

His next thrust was harder, slamming into Lance.

“Nuhhh!” Lance managed a whined moan.

Slipping Lances limp cock from his hand, Shiro wrapped his arm around Lance’s hips, his big hand cupping over the peak of one hip. As he thrust forward this time he yanked Lance’s back meeting him in a powerful impaling rush.

Lances eyes dragged down as his mouth opened.

He felt like Shiro was pounding all the way through him.

“Come on, lovely,” Shiro’s voice—it had finally acquired that frantic edge. “lock down on me.”

Lance looked up at his mate—lock down? What did he—

The air was almost knocked out of Lance as the first tightening contraction hit through him.

There was a smile in the next breath across Lance’s cheek.

It hung in the air—

_good boy_

With the next thrust into him, Lance contracted again. This time giving his own cry, his hands scrambled across Shiro’s arms. “Shi—“ He tried to stumble out.

“God, yes,” Shiro mumbled, his white forelock was spilled over Lance’s throat as Shiro pressed his forehead into Lance.

There was something else—Lance blinked rapidly, his haze of orgasm finally filtering away as he realized—Shiro was swelling. His base was—Shiro was knotting.

Lance’s hand involuntarily tightened over Shiro’s.

There was a growl, deep and laced with—Alpha. It was an Alpha tone. Lance’s body strung with it and he arched, pressing himself up into Shiro as much as he could.

The next thrust—

“Ohhhh,” Lance cried out, not entirely out of pleasure.

The knot had finally slipped into him, and Lance’s body contracted again clamping down on him. Shiro's arms tightened around Lance as well, fingers digging into him and claiming him. Shiro’s mouth was against the bond mark, mouth baring sharp teeth that scraped across the mark.

It all sent a trembling quake through Lance as he felt—Shiro spilled inside of him.

“My prince,” It was uttered like s whoosh of wind and Lance almost didn't catch it. "I will lay the stars at your feet."

 

* * *

 

It had been both arousing and embarrassing when Shiro had finally pulled from Lance, and adjusted his clothing before with ease he’d pulled Lance up from the grass and effortlessly had him cradled over his shoulder, like a sleepy child.

Lance had twitched and tried to mumble something about it being unfair but his body felt—numb and tingly and wonderful and limp—and so over stimulated. Lance could barely hold his head up on his own.

It hadn’t dissipated as they’d reached the room and Shiro didn’t even bother trying to set Lance back on his feet.

With swift ease, Shiro had tugged his own shirt off and fallen back on their couch, letting Lance fall with him.

He’d dozed, or at least he must have because as Lance blinked his eyes open the fog finally leaving enough to register the situation, he found himself nestled into the crook of Shiro’s arm, head on his chest and hand stretched out and up Shiro’s sternum.

It was a surprisingly comfortable position. It made it even better when Lance looked up. Shiro’s eyes roved over Lance smoothly, following the line of his shoulder up before dipping down the gentle curve of his waist and back up to the tip of his hip bone. Shiro had pulled a blanket over them but his fingers trailing Lance’s side had long slid the shallow blanket down to Lance’s thigh.

Shiro’s hands were on Lance, drawing lazy designs over his skin and coaxing him back into his dozed state.

Enough so when the door to their entryway opened, Lance didn’t bother even lifting his head.

“He’s summoned you.”

Lance’s eyes flew open.

The door to their room was behind Lance, and with how he was laying across Shiro’s chest, unless he moved he wouldn’t be able to see who it was.

A cold metal hand over Lance’s hip tightened though, and more importantly—pushed down.

The message was clear: don’t move.

“I’m quite busy at the moment.” Shiro was looking at Lance.

It was when she cleared her voice, giving that indignant sound she made every time someone denied her something she wanted, that Lance knew who it was.

“Your king has summoned you.” Allura’s voice held a much firmer quality this time.

Shiro’s eyes shifted from Lance, flicking up to Allura. “And our lovely prince I'm afraid is asleep on me at the moment.”

There was another squeeze of Shiro’s hand. Again, the message Lance received was clear enough—Lance was asleep. He wasn’t to move.

It was a lie that could be maintained. The back of Lance's head was facing Allura, Shiro was propped up on the arm of the couch. Unless Allura stepped close enough she’d see nothing but Lance’s back and the waist down tangled in a blanket.

Lance wasn’t sure if he could move even at that moment. He wasn’t even sure if he could breathe.

There was the shift of clothing. No doubt his sister had straightened, taking a more regal stance.

“Black Paladin,”

“Your highness,”

The smile Shiro crooked at that moment—Lance’s own gaze widened.

He was actually smirking at her.

“These rooms were given to you.” Allura’s icy tone frosted the room.

Shiro’s hand moved then, sliding up Lance’s thigh to dip under the blanket. Once there, he traced around his hip bone to the peak of his pelvic to dip in.

Lance’s gaze turned to Shiro.

Shiro’s focus was still ahead though, still looking at his sister—like—like there was some secret. Like Shiro was in on the heist and he was so giddy to see the moment dawn on Allura.

“You were given the Prince laying at your side.”

Shiro’s metal hand slid between Lance’s thighs. His hand around Lance’s back curled in over his head, shielding him farther from Allura.

Shiro hummed. “That’s not how I remember events.”

Lance could hear the steely silence from his sister.

Shiro looked down at that moment, his gaze focused on Lance. A smile flickered.

“You’re here because we are allowing you to be.” Allura hissed. “This campaign of yours will come to a close, when my father can truly sit on that throne—when I…” She trailed off.

Lance’s gaze was on Shiro, watching him. Between his legs he could feel a cool metal finger—

His breath hitched, just the smallest amount, and Lance tried to stifle it, his eyes flicking to Shiro,

For just a few seconds, Shiro gazed back at him, before looking past Lance.

“Princess,” Shiro voice was smooth, perfectly content. “That almost sounded like a threat.”

Just then Shiro slid in a second finger, curling them inside of Lance.

Lance’s fingers twitched. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched, trying to stay still, stay quiet.

“Wouldn’t the Queen of Altea need a Black Paladin?” Shiro’s voice was still level. His flesh hand started to slide through Lance’s hair, petting it away from his forehead.

Lance could barely stop the shudder as Shiro leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his head.

“You’ll never deserve that prince,” Allura’s voice held her own measure of confidence.

Shiro was already smiling into Lance’s hair. His fingers curled deeper in Lance. Hidden in the crook of Shiro’s neck, Lance couldn’t stop the way his face contorted and the shaky breath that he let out.

“I don’t think you deserve him either.” Shiro said so simply.

“He’s my brother.”

“And when you have the option of prying him from my hands—or the Black bayard—I wonder which you’ll reach for first.”  
  
“That implies you think he’ll stand with you. Family is everything.” Allura hissed the last sentence. “A bloodless Varrian like you would never understand.”

There was another smile. And another kiss pressed to Lance’s hair.

Shiro slipped his hand from Lance’s then. Almost breaking a strangled moan from Lance. Though bitting fiercely down on his lip, he managed to stifle it.

“Let his grace know, we’ll be there shortly.” Shiro’s gaze never even flicked to Lance.

“I am not a messenger.” Allura sneered.

“I’m confident you’ll deliver the message all the same,” Shiro’s brow raised. “They did send you to retrieve me after all.”

The silence in the room was deathly.

“I hope you’re enjoying your stolen time with my brother.” Allure hissed, though her voice was rescinding foot steps taking her away.

Shiro chuckled, the smile nearly devilish agin though he leaned forward, crushing himself to Lance. “Trust me, I’ve no interest in stealing, he’s generous after all.”

When the door opened there was a pause, and Lance caught as Shiro’s gaze shifted up.

Then there was the shuffle of feet and the door clicked closed.

In a whoosh, Lance pushed himself up to sit up, “What the—“ he gasped. HIs eyes shot to the doorway and then back to Shiro. “You just—My sister—“ Lance’s wide eyes tried to search over Shiro’s face.

In return, Shiro just shifted on the couch.

“She was in the room!” Lance desperately tried to organize the words spilling from him.

“Yes, baby,” Shiro smiled again, he was already reaching forward, his hands at Lance’s hips.

“This—“ Lance shook his head. “My father—“

Suddenly, Shiro smoothed his hands up over the peaks of Lance’s hip bones and down, pressing his fingers in over Lance’s glands at the base of his spine.

It was hard enough it had Lance gasping as his knees desperately tried to part and he barely caught himself from falling forward.

“How—?” His eyes were still wide.

“That’s it, my pretty boy.” Shiro cooed.

His flesh hand flattened over the base of Lance’s back, while cool metal slid between Lance’s ass again, sending shivers racking through him.

Lance tried to steady himself—only to groan and barely keep from falling face first onto Shiro’s chest as a second finger slid into him.

There was a chuckle over him and Shiro started to curl his fingers inside of Lance, thrusting gently at first.

Lance’s strangled cry was the only thing he could manage.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro nosed his way across Lance’s jaw. “Yeah,”

When Shiro finally reached Lance's bond mark, he wasted no time in sucking the mark up,

Eyes rolling back in his head, Lance realized as well— the hand at his back hadn’t stopped. His legs shook as he felt Shiro gently rubbing his fingers over the spot.

Slick was coming so fast, it dribbled down Lance’s legs.

“Shi—-“ Lance couldn’t even manage to finish the word as Shiro started to rub inside of him.

“Come on,” Shiro pulled off with a slurp just long enough to coo in Lance’s ear. “give it all to me.”

“Shiro” Lance moaned, his body starting to already feel strung and tight. his back arched restlessly first up then back dipping in, effectively fucking himself back on Shiro's hand.

The dark chuckle at Lance’s ear drew his attention.

“Good boy,” Shiro whispered, smiling at Lance.

He crashed his lips into Lance's then, his fingers starting to move faster. Lance groaned into the kiss. His position was held precariously up on his elbows that started to shake as well. he could hear the wet squelch at every thrust and the harsh breath as his mouth was devoured.

Lance whimpered again, his fingers clawing across what little bit of the couch he could find.

“You gonna come for me?” Shiro whispered directly into Lance’s mouth.

He was so close their noses touched, and Lance’s entire gaze was filled with Shiro, with a storm just at his eye line—Lance could swear he saw the golden flash of lightening in his mates eyes.

Lance desperately gasped for air and ground his body forward, thrusting himself against Shiro.

“You're amazing,” Shiro sharpened his gaze, searching over Lance’s face.

“I’m—“ Lance’s mouth hung open and his eyes watered. “Shiro—“ He gasped for air. “I-“

“Please, let me have you,” Shiro punctuated the sentence with a bite right against Lance’s lips, scraping his teeth over the flesh without truly biting down or breaking it.

It was the last bit of stimulation Lance could handle before—

“Nhhhhuhh!”

It was like his orgasm was pulled through a brick wall. His body convulsed and vision exploded in white shattered glass. He shivered and writhed and saw nothing but gold and storm clouds.

“Oh,” Lance collapsed forward, his limbs no longer able to hold him up and he fell straight down into Shiro’s awaiting arms.

There was another chuckle but Shiro didn’t hesitate to hold Lance in close.

“Well done,” was whispered at his ear.

It was several minutes before Lance managed to register anything. Shiro hands stayed still under Lance, both his hands running smoothly at Lance’s bare sides, up and back down before back up.

Lance blinked several times trying to clear his vision.

It was when he started to get feeling back in Lance’s deadened limbs that Shiro moved out from under him. The slide was gentle and he took great care in handling Lance off on to the couch. A throw pillow was tucked under Lance’s head before the blanket was pulled up, this time all the way up to his shoulders. Shiro pulling it around him to keep his bare skin from shivering.

Shiro pointed Lance’s chin up to him before pressing a kiss in. It lingered but wasn’t as possessive and devouring as it usually was.

Lance gave a weak moan as his head dropped back to the pillow.

“I’m going to get ready to attend the kings audience.” Shiro informed Lance before running a hand done his shoulders he finally stepped away and back into their bedroom.

No longer being directly confronted with the Alpha—Lances mind finally caught up to itself. He felt the slick between his legs drying all down his thighs. He felt the ache of his limbs. He wasn’t sure —the orgasm had been pulled from him, it felt like it was a rapture drained through out his whole body, truly a small death at its most intense.

It didn’t stop Lance from pushing himself up though. His eyes turned wildly across the room. A part of him—he wondered if any of it had really truly just happened. He felt disconnected from even his own body, like he was floating or—or falling.

Shiro was stepping back into the room. This time he was more acutely dressed, and clearly he’d refreshed himself. The form-fitting, Black Paladin uniform nearly startled Lance.

“Come on, darling,” Shiro spoke as he offered a hand to Lance. “I’d love to let you lie, but your presence is required as well.”

Lance blinked up at the man standing over him. His mouth opened—but Lance could only find one word. “Why?” his head shook.

Over him, Shiro’s brow crooked as he watched Lance.

He smiled then. “Because you’re mine.” he said as if it was matter of fact.

He seized Lance then and tugging him at the waist pulled him up to his feet and into his arms.

Lance squeaked but still managed to grab on, digging his fingers in the uniform. Realizing yet again the Black Paladin was fully clothed with Lance pressed completely bare to him. He was hoisted up farther, his arms going around Shiro’s neck as he came face to face with his mate again. They were so close Lance was certain they could breath nothing but the breath of the other.

“And there needed to be a reminder—that from the moment she handed you over, you would never be used by her again.” Shiro said sweetly into Lance’s mouth, before he dipped in and sealed their lips in a suffocating kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!: They did the dirty XD 
> 
> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)
> 
> My sweet, bright, beautiful Beta: [Cosmosclouds](http://cosmosclouds.tumblr.com/)


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i), [Shiro and Lance by Vero](https://mobile.twitter.com/roseraiess/status/976300378114281473)

 

There was a much more sizable audience than Lance had expected. And all of them were arguing. The throne room, usually lined with gleaming gosmer curtains and giggling courtiers—was now set up as council room. A broad table extended from the dais where Alfor sat and curved down around, forming a Long O throughout the room, Most, if not all, the seats were filled, Council and military men alike all were in attendance. Up around them large holographic projections lined around them. The largest was a direct feed—

 

Lance’s eyes widened.

 

It was a window to see—an entire Galra fleet. Their clan mark in deep red smeared across the bow.

 

“Come on,” Shiro whispered to Lance as he tugged him up through the hall.

 

“Why would they attack,” Lance’s head whipped around to his partner, as they both walked hastily up to their seats at the head of the table.

 

Shiro spared Lance a glance, not answering but the look was answer enough. He couldn’t tell Lance here.

 

“We need to strike first,” a general hissed from farther up the table.

 

Shiro slid a chair out, gesturing for Lance to take it, before he took his own seat at the King’s right side. There were a few prying eyes, but Allura standing next to the King had drawn most of the attention.

 

“Without proper cause it will look excessive,” Allura countered.

 

Shiro next to Lance was very quickly getting a run down and updated through the data pad passed to him from behind by Coran. His eyes scrolled through the pages or reports and occasionally he looked up to the projections above them. At one point, Shiro even leaned over in a hushed whisper to ask Coran something.

 

Lance didn’t hear the transpired words, and looked back up to the screens. There were three war ships in total and they—they were nearing the Altean galactic line.

 

“This is more than posturing,” The general shot back

 

As King Alfor shifted forward, the room fell silent. “Would you send us into war?”

 

Allura stood a bit straighter, her head turned to look to their king.

 

“Shiro,” Alfor’s deep voice resounded in the room as he looked to the Black Paladin next to him.

 

It was clear he was asking for the man’s opinion on the matter, and slowly Shiro set the data pad down on the glass top table before him. He looked—calculated, Lance noticed as he sucked in his own breath next to Shiro.

 

Lance’s hands fidgeted under the table. He wanted to reach out to Shiro, to take his hand, but the chairs were seated too far away for Lance to be able to do it unnoticed, so he continued to fidget instead.

 

“War is coming to us,” Shiro said in a level tone.

 

“You would purpose an attack,” Iso’s voice rang out through the hall. He was seated next to Allura, still dressed as most were for the evening out on the lawns.

 

Lance tilted his head—had that all really been just moments ago? It felt like ages since Lance had been out under the tents, watching Shiro and speaking with his friends. The day had seemed so inconsequential when Lance had awoken that morning. It also made Lance conscious--Shiro had made sure Lance and himself looked prepared for the meeting. Even arriving late, Shiro was dressed as the Black  Paladin, not as he would a frivolous day outside.

 

“No,” Shiro answered plainly, “But that’s a raiding party,” he pointed to the sigil. “They’re here as an intimidation tactic only secondary, they’re testing defenses at this point and we can’t falter.”

 

Alfor shifted in his seat. “What would be your plan of action, Black Paladin?” Alfor’s gaze was settled on Shiro, looking over him, like Alfor was studying him.

 

Shiro didn’t answer with any sign of hesitation. “Send in Voltron.” His voice was still even but in the quiet room it carried without effort. “Make it clear we won’t attack if they leave— but if they attempt to cross into Altean space, we will not tolerate it.”

 

Allura’s arms crossed over her chest.

 

“You will start a war,” Iso hissed.

 

“I would make it clear, we have no intention of tolerating raiders in Altean space.” Shiro’s voice deepened. “We have too many colonies in open space, too many lives at risk. A Galra transporter ship is one thing—but a raider fleet isn’t to be tolerated.”

 

“Harshly dealing with a situation such as this could have unintended consequences,” Allura spoke up.

 

Lance sat forward in his seat, trying desperately to catch his sister’s eye. Not bothering to hide it, Lance  slid a hand over Shiro’s arm this time.

 

Shiro didn’t look over as he caressed over Lance’s fingers.

 

Lance didn’t look over either, looking instead to his sister.

 

She had to know Shiro was right. Lance had warned her. He’d told her, over and over again, Shiro knew the Galra, and she needed to trust him. They meant war.

 

“Not dealing with this situation could have consequences as well,” an Admiral spoke up from Lance’s left.

 

Alfor held up a hand silencing the room again.

 

It was quiet for a lasting moment this time.

 

Sitting back in his throne, Alfor considered before he spoke. “Allura, you are heir, what do you purpose we do?”

 

Allura straightened her full height as she looked to her father.

 

Lance could see as she pulled on the cold queenly mask. “It’s more posturing. They won’t cross the Galactic line.” She said with confidence. “I say we open up a com’s link with them, send in an envoy and diplomatically handle this locally through the forces we already have stationed there.”

 

Next to her, Iso gave a firm nod in agreement.

 

Alfor spared a glance to no other as he nodded as well. “Than that’s what we will do.” There was a loud "thwack" as  the guards directly behind the throne snapped at attention, their spears hitting the hard marble floors once to signify the King was standing.

 

The room rippled with murmurs, but Lance still stood in respect and Shiro did the same at his side.

 

Allura gave a gracious bow to her father.

 

Lance looked down as Shiro grasped Lance’s arm, sliding him in closer to him. But Shiro’s attention was elsewhere as he turned to snag Coran.

 

“You will inform me of any updates at all.” Shiro said in a hushed voice.

 

“Absolutely Sir,” Coran bowed to Shiro in acknowledgement.

 

“Shiro,” Lance stepped closer.

 

Shiro’s eyes shifted to Lance for a brief moment, long enough to give a quick impression. ‘not here, not yet.'

 

Lance worried at his bottom lip but didn’t speak further.

 

The room around them was already breaking into smaller chatting groups. Allura and her entourage was well on her way to leaving the room though, Iso in quick step with her.

 

It didn’t escape Lance’s notices the way Shiro’s eyes traced her path from the room.

 

Now that—now that he wasn’t laid flush against Shiro and his mind fuzzy with cooed praise and constant affection—it occurred to Lance, how very odd earlier in the evening had been. His sister had seemingly come alone to his room to get Shiro—or was it to challenge him? It was perplexing as Lance gazed at his regal sister.

 

It was then Lance notices as well—a flock of black clad and hooded Acolytes were hovering at the edges of the court. Had they been there since Lance had entered? He’d been so distracted with the actions around him, Lance wasn’t sure. But they were on the move now and they seemed to be aiming straight for Lance and Shiro.

 

“Black Paladin,” one tall and slender woman stepped up.

 

Her face rather gaunt and her hands slender, she approached with quiet almost inaudible steps. She withdrew her hood to reveal catlike golden eyes and muted starlit hair as she stepped forward. Interesting, Lance observed. Hair color like that was only common among Altean royalty. Though not horribly surprising, specs of the bloodline were flung out through the noble families.

 

Shiro’s attention was drawn away from the general he was speaking to and he turned.

 

As the woman fully approached them, she gave a flowing bow to Lance, “Your Highness.” The bow was deep and her chin tucked in as she descended to a knee.

 

Startled, Lance was usually never acknowledged at Shiro’s side. His hand came up to clutch at his uniform just at his chest. He was unsure what to do.

 

“Uh,” Lance looked around,

 

Shiro from beside him nudged at him, “That’s called respect,” He mused at Lance’s ear.

 

Lance shot him a glance before looking back to the woman, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” He said quickly regaining his confidence. He held out his hand in the formal manner he’d been taught since birth. A few mere months as Shiro's side note couldn't erase the regality Lance was born into.

 

The woman reverently took his hand and pressed her forehead to his knuckles before rising. “The pleasure is indeed mine, your majesty.”

 

Lance’s eyes bulged for just a moment. That title, was not one he could claim. But correcting her seemed uncouth so Lance just nodded to her with a slight smile.

 

“I am Honerva,” The woman introduced herself.

 

“You’re an Acolyte?” Lance knew it was a bit rude to question her occupation, but looking at their robes—acolyte robes were deep blue. Lance couldn’t fathom which order would wear black.

 

“I am a priestess of the Goddess.” Honerva affirmed.

 

Lance nodded. “Of course.” He wracked his brain thinking if he knew of any orders of woman in the faith. He could have sworn there was none. All leadership were male… or so he’d thought.

 

“Paladin Shirogane,” Honerva turned her attention to Shiro.

 

Giving her his full attention, Shiro let Lance curl in at his side.

 

He hoped it looked like an act of affection, but his main goal was to look behind Shiro. The war councils were already talking amongst themselves with grim looks on their faces. And though orders had been issued, not many seemed in any great hurry to see them through.

 

“Whatever you need from the order, Black paladin, consider it yours,” Lance could hear Hoth behind him, but he wasn’t paying attention.

 

Farther away, Lance’s father had been held up as several advisors talked with him. Narrowing his eyes, he wished he could understand their conversation from this distance.

 

“That is a generous offer, priestess.” Shiro graciously accepted, his arm was still loosely around Lance, his hand at the small of Lance’s back.

 

“We feel the need to express our support, Sir.”

 

“That is very gracious of you, we thank you.”

 

“Absolutely, Sir,”

 

Lances attention was drawn back as Honerva stepped closer. Her eyes—Lance blinked rapidly as he realized—her eyes were a wonderful crystalline. Even in gold--they were. She had to be of noble birth. No commoner had eyes like that.

 

“Your Highness,” she dipped her head again.

 

Lance dipped his head as well to her before she dismissed herself. Quickly her flock of black robed followers joined her as they swooped from the courtrooms escaping any further notice.

 

When Lance looked back over Shiro’s shoulder, his father was leaving, his advisors dispersed. Lance scrunched his nose but accepted there was no information further that he could glean.

 

Shiro held out his hand, gesturing for Lance to lead the way out of the vast hall.

 

“Back to our rooms?” Lance asked as he stepped away.

 

“No,” Shiro shook his head. “We’ll have news soon enough, diplomatic enterprises such as this—never seem to take long,” It was the slight change in Shiro’s voice that had Lance on edge.

 

Looking to his Paladin, Lance spoke under his breath. “What’s going to happen?”

 

With a glance spared in Lance’s direction, he directed them into one of the much smaller sitting rooms lining the castle.

 

“We’re going to stay close,” Shiro said to Lance. “If this goes well, we’ll have spent a pleasant evening together in a comfortable room with colleagues—if it doesn’t…” Shiro trailed off. “We won't be far at hand then.”

 

Lance glanced around the much smaller comfortable room. Rich plush couches and armchairs strewn the room, but also several different holographic projections were starting to line the walls. It was all military men again, Lance realized as he looked around himself.

 

As Shiro released him, Lance slid down to one of the couches. It was—this was a new experience for him. He’d never been involved so closely with matters so… Lance looked around himself, feeling horribly out of his own depth. It gnawed at his stomach to think--he was second heir to the throne--and he knew so little of how the kingdom actually worked.

 

* * *

 

Within a few hours, the room was filled with wafting smoke from the few men, and a woman, that indulged and food platters strew on every table. There was a constant stream of information coming through the room, there was also at least three different angles brought up of the corresponding “Diplomacy” underway.

 

Subtitles lined each holograph and most of the attention in the room was drawn there. Though many smaller conversations had broken out. Shiro's attention had very quickly been pulled away and to a smaller group convened at the couches directly in audience to the largest of the two projections.

 

It seemed a convenient enough time for Lance to slide away from the couch and drop the deep blue cloak from the clasps at his shoulders, letting it fall around and in front of him to shroud his form. He exited the room with a nod to the guard, saying he'd be only a moment as he waved off an escort.

 

But as a precaution, Lance pulled the hood up as he slipped through the entryway and down the hall.

 

He would make the trip short but hopefully profitable and Lance tugged the hood up closer around him.

 

With Keith gone, Lance knew his watch dog wasn't at least around but – Lance couldn't say he could trust that Shiro hadn't assigned others to follow him.

 

Lance slipped in and back around to the royal chambers. His own room had once been down this hall, a few steps from his sister’s though that felt like eons ago, when Lance had been a completely different person.

 

As Lance approached the double doors of his sister’s room, he checked his surroundings again. There was a pair of guards stationed at the end of the hall but neither was looking in Lance's direction. That was fine. Rumors were always a problem with the staff but Lance just needed the secrecy of that moment. Shiro would find out sooner or later but Lance just needed a few short minutes.

 

Lance tapped at his sisters door twice.

 

There was no answer, so smoothly Lance turned the handle in his hand very carefully and slipped in--

 

Right into being face to face with Allura.

 

Lance tipped his head as his sister’s crystalline eyes were suddenly presented in the small light from a compact she held. Lance had forgotten – he was actually taller than his sister, and it was a fact that so often seemed to catch him off guard.

 

"What are you doing here?" Allura brow furrowed as she whispered to Lance.

 

Lance looked past Allura to – Oh.

 

Allura's massive bed in the bedroom beyond was occupied. The sheets and thin comforter outlined the long form and a splash of blonde hair was visible from the head of the bed.

 

Lance looked around them and gestured to the small sitting room off the entry rooms.

 

Allura's room though bigger than the Black Paladin's quarters – was set up almost exactly the same, almost all the living quarter except for the king’s were that way. The main parlor/entry way opened up to a massive bedroom, with rooms at either side as well.

 

Allure quickly took Lance's hand and they slipped in through to a sitting room. Allura carefully glanced at the bedroom one more time, before she slid the door closed, securing it, and clipped the compact light closed. She flipped on the light.

 

"Lance!" she hissed as she turned. "Really?"

 

"Why are you here?" Lance gasped, his hands flared out in an exaggerated gesture. "You went to bed? Seriously?" He continued. His voice a strained whisper in effort to keep quiet.

 

Allura crossed her arms. "We need to appear calm, collected and in no way worried about the situation."

 

Lance could barely believe his ears. His mouth in fact hung open for a moment as his hands gestured to outside the door. "Shiro –" Lance shook his head. "Right now, Shiro has his own war council assembled and you've gone to bed."

 

"I'm not worried," Allura affirmed with her chin held high. "The diplomatic envoys will work."

 

Lance crossed his own arms. "No one in the room I was just in, seem to be under that impression."

 

Allura shook her head,. "You've been sitting in a room of military men. I've seen those Shiro keeps for company. It's a room full of fear and war mongering"

 

"It's a room of people prepared," Lance affirmed.

 

Allura seemed to falter, her hand fidgety as it came up to her face. "What has Shiro said?"

 

With a frown, Lance's shoulders dropped. "Barely anything to me," Lance admitted. He gave a sigh. "It's been a very long night for the two of us."

 

Allura eyed over him.

 

“No, I wasn’t asleep,” Lance answered, already knowing her unspoken question.

 

"I knew it!" Allura hissed. Her brow lowered. "Why did you let him say those things earlier?"

 

Say those things? Lance blinked. Oh. OH. She had no idea. Even with Lance's ruse of sleep she still had no idea Shiro had finger fucked him in front of her basically.

 

"You –" Lances face shot red. “You have no idea what it's like having a mate like that, he says stuff and I just – it's hard to contradict him."

 

"You contradict me all the time!" Allura shot back.

 

"You're different!" Lance hissed. "Sisters don't count!" Lance's face squished in his own expression. "Besides, what the hell was up with you?

 

Allura was back to keenly standing very straight, her eyes and chin aloft. "I needed to make myself clear to him."

 

Lance's lips pinched into an unhappy smile. He'd heard the exact argument just an hour or so before from his counterpart. "Allura." He growled. "I married him."

 

Allura's head flicked back to Lance. "And he needs to understand that!"

 

"Insults and threats aren't going to make you friends!"

 

"He has you, only because we allow him to!" Allura hissed. "His power was given from us! From the real royalty here and he needs to have that spelled out to him clearly! He does not have the bloodline, he is not the destined ruler of Altea! And if he keeps walking around acting like he has any real power here, it's going to cause a rift."

 

Lance's brow still didn't rise. "That's an absurd way of keeping him on our side!" Lance threw his hands up.

 

Hands fisting, Allura dropped them to her sides. The silken night robe she wore had long flowing sleeves that dropped down with her arms. "You can't still believe he is here simply to fulfill his duty."

 

It was Lance's turn to raise his chin. "I will keep him close, it's the reason we elected for this marriage. And I will keep him in check."

 

Allura was already rounding on him. "You've already admitted you're compromised when it comes to him."

 

Lance's own hands fisted. "I love him."

 

The words suddenly lit though Lance in a way he – he'd never. They were suddenly so horribly true Lance realized. Even with everything said and happened throughout the long night. Lance knew they were true.

 

A push of Allura's head back showed her sudden surprise at the statement as well.

 

"Lance--"

 

"You sentenced me to this." Lance cut her off quickly with a staggered breath. "Please don't act shocked, when the one man that's showed me affection and fondness has garnered that in return from me. I love him and I because of that bond mark physically can’t let you destroy him."

 

Falling quiet, Allura watched Lance carefully.

 

"This isn't a battle of bloodlines anymore." Lance continued. "If you challenge him for me--" Lance grit his teeth as he tried to formulate his thoughts. "This is the opportunity to pit him against a common enemy not to drive him between us."

 

That seemed to catch Allura. "I don't trust him, baby brother."

 

Lance didn't move. "I know--I--" Lance stalled.

 

Did-did Lance even trust him?  

 

"He's having me followed." Lance’s eyes looked away. "He doesn't trust me."

 

Allura nodded. "It's smart." her eyes flicked to the bedroom door.

 

Lance looked over his shoulder at it – -and wondered what poor soul was stuck stalking Iso all day. He blinked and looked back to his sister.

 

"I still disagree with your choice of ally," Lance spoke.

 

Allura smiled, though this time there was a peak of her old self, of the sister Lance grew up with. "I can't be like you, baby brother." Her gaze on him suddenly seemed quite sad. "I can't afford to be emotionally compromised."

 

It was – something only Allura would believe, but Lance still accepted it as he nodded his head, already reaching for the hood.

 

"Your times up?" Allura perked.

 

With a flick of the hood back over his head, Lance nodded. "After your little outburst into our room, I'm sure Shiro is already suspicious of me. I can't give him more cause."

 

"You confronted him over it?" Allura inquired, one brow tipped.

 

Lance's mouth pressed into an uneasy line. "In a way. He knows it didn't please me."

 

Allura tipped her head. "Do you know, does he feel the same?"

 

Lance swallowed, looking away. "I think--I hope he does."

 

It was a long moment. "He keeps you close." Allura stalled, her eyes hooded as she spoke to Lance. "But as an enemy or--or a trophy I can't tell which."

 

Lance pressed his lips into a thin line before stepping forward. He didn't say that he didn't like the sound of either of those options – but he didn't live in a world where those he was surrounded by were treasured or precious – no, no as things were going he was pushing those precious as far as he could away. He grasped his sister lightly before leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

 

"Please," He murmured. "Just be ready." He huffed.

 

Allura nodded and let her head fall to press her cheek to Lance's shoulder as she stepped forward to hug him in return. "You too." she murmured. "Be careful. I worry for you."

 

Lance sighed. "You've just said he keeps me close."

 

"True." She nodded. "The arms of a tiger may be safe – but it's still a tiger encircling you."

 

Lance snorted, and pulled away.

 

"Put some clothes on, get ready," Lance said. "I don't doubt you – I just."

 

Allura nodded. "Alright, just for you." Though she sounded skeptical.

 

Lance gave one last nod before he slipped back through the door and started back to the smoky lounge and back to his bond mate.

 

* * *

 

Lance re-entered the room in a few swift steps later. Sliding through the generous doorway, Lance slipped the cloak off and let it slide to rest at a chair. He wasn’t sure exactly how but his things always magically returned to his room every time he left them about the castle, so without fear of losing it, he slipped his way through the men, back to slither in next to his mate.

 

Shiro didn’t look away from the screen before him, but his arm slid around Lance’s shoulders.

 

Abruptly Lance was constricted in and Shiro pecked a kiss to Lance’s cheek marking. It also afforded him the opportunity to speak ever so softly at Lance’s ear.

 

“How is your sister's night going?”

 

Lance’s spine creaked as it shot pins and needles straight. He—he had wondered if Shiro would even notice him gone. He had also considered that with his scent missing from the room, it was likely Shiro would—and Lance had planned to lie.

 

That option was now very briskly revoked from him.

 

Lance slid a long slender hand against Shiro’s thigh. “Has Keith returned without you telling me?” He whispered in to Shiro's collar, breathing close against his primary glands just under his jaw.

 

Shiro’s only answer for a moment was a long look from over Lance and the smallest of upticks at the edge of his mouth.

 

"He said you knew," Shiro mused. "But I didn't quite believe him."

 

"You should have," Lance's brow lowered.

 

"Oh," Shiro's mouth twisted in a smile. "There are quite a few things I am coming to believe about you."

 

Lance wasn't sure if it was a threat or – a compliment. "I won't betray you." Lance blurted before he knew it. "But I won't be used."

 

Shiro nodded slow, his smile turning gentler. "I adore you."

 

Lance shook his head. "I'm not picking sides."

 

Shiro's smile didn't falter. "No." he reached out ever so gently, petting his fingers through Lance's hair. "I know, you won't."

 

"Don't make me in the future," Lance could feel the tone of his own plea. But he still maintained the frantic eye contact with Shiro's stormy gaze.

 

For such a crowded room, Lance could swear at that moment they were alone, he could feel the gentle thumb of his own heart, and his hand reached out, seeking Shiro's.

 

It was a long moment before Shiro spoke "Are you asking for a promise?"

 

Lance shook his head ever so slowly. "I – I guess, I'm not." His eyes flicked away for just a moment considering his words. "I just – I need your understanding." He looked back to Shiro, his head tipping just the way he knew Shiro seemed to like. "I will always love my family. Please understand."

 

Shiro considered for a moment but soon he slid forward and pressed a kiss to Lance's prone open lips. "I will never ask you not to." He said very carefully. "I promise you that."

 

* * *

 

It happened all at once. Lance looked up at the screen to see one moment there was still more talks happening and in the next—Lance’s eyes went wide as the room went deathly quiet.

 

Shiro jolted into action first as he swiftly stood.

 

“Alert his majesty,” Shiro was already pulling on the black cloak as he reached a hand out for Lance to take.

 

“Of course,” A nearby footman answered.

 

“Have my guard at the ready,” Shiro was speaking to one of the generals at hand. “And get a message out to Kogane. I also want a starship to start preparing.”

 

The room was bursting with energy suddenly and men were pulling on coats and shifting around uniforms. Several men were already leaving the room hastily seeing to Shiro’s orders.

 

Lance – Lance barely moved, his eyes glued to the screen. It suddenly – what Shiro had been afraid of, Lance had never imagined this – carnage. Like a switch had been flipped the Galra had all surged forward and attacked mercilessly tearing apart the Altean meeting with them. They outnumbered in the room. Lance’s eyes widened further as the last of them, a greying older Altean–

 

"NO–" Lance gasped.

 

A Galra – Slender and lithe, where a helmet and hood, struck forward and ripped a sword out, slicing the admiral’s head off with a vicious cry. THe other galra around let out a thunderous call as the last of the Alteans diplomats had fallen and the cameras started to fuzz out.

 

Suddenly the feed cut off and Lance jolted, his hand coming up to his mouth. How – His eyes shakily turned to Shiro.

 

The Black Paladin’s eyes were on Lance, carefully trained as he watched him.

 

Lance could already feel the shake in his limbs.

 

How had Shiro – how had he ever survived through Galra imprisonment?

 

"Your Highness," Shiro's deep tone was barely audible, he stood just a foot or so from Lance, those around had gone still as the Black Paladin had turned his attention squarely down to Lance.

 

"Shiro," It was in the tremble of Lance's voice that he realized--he blinked rapidly to clear the tears.

 

There was a shuddering boom heard through the holograms and every head in the room jerked to the hologram quickly being pulled up to be the main focus of the room. It was an explosion.

 

There was a swarm of ships from the rupturing Altean main flag ship. Like wasps leaving a destroyed nest, they all swarmed and were headed back to the Galra war ships all all eerily luminescent as cannons were held at the ready, charging for a second blast.

 

"We need to go now," Shiro's voice was calm but he took several long strides to Lance, and offered his hand.

 

Lance's hand shook as he took it from over his mouth and let his fingers rest in Shiro's palm. His hand was grasped and immediately Lance was helped up and to his feet.

 

Shiro pulled the dark blue cloak back around Lances shoulders, and even went as far as to check over his appearance, handing Lance the ornate silver circlet he'd removed at one point. "Put it on," He still commanded in the same soft tone.

 

Given a distraction, Lance took it and slid the circlet on to his head. Shiro clasped Lance’s hand within a second after and led him out, the rest to the room following quickly behind.

 

At the door, black clad guards met them.

 

Lance knew intimately well what Black alliance guards looked like. They guarded their room every night and flanked Shiro when ever he started on official meetings but now—instead of a single or pair of guards, six men met them at the door, and quickly formed around Shiro as he briskly walked through the high ceilinged halls.

 

Lance followed behind Shiro though was urged into keeping up by the guards bringing up the rear.

 

The trip to the throne room was short but it still afforded enough time for Shiro to tug Lance in at his side.

 

"Is that the first time you've seen someone die?" He asked quietly.

 

Lance nearly shook his head 'yes' before he stopped and snapped his head in a shake. "My mother," He whispered. "I was always told I was with my mother when she died."

 

When Lance looked up to Shiro there seemed to be – Shiro's head tipped towards Lance in a way he'd never experienced before. It was almost as if Shiro looked worried – or was it sympathy?

 

"Do you remember it?" Shiro asked.

 

Lance looked away. "No." He answered honestly. "My father inquires if I do sometimes, but I never can."

 

Before Shiro could further comment the doors to the throne room were opening before them and the Black Paladin’s precession was welcomed into the chaos.

 

Lance closed his eyes as they entered the throne room out of relief more than anything. Allura had done as he'd asked. If only marginally. But she didn't look – he didn't look like Iso. It was clear Iso had been abruptly woken from sleep and his eyes still moved around the room in blinking slow comprehending ways. Allura still wore the nightgown and gossamer robe over – but she had still taken Lance's advice. She'd cleaned up, her hair done and her face clearly awake as she stood short at hand of the throne.

 

Lance looked over at his mate.

 

It unfortunately didn't compare. Lance knew his own appearance was shaky but he was three steps ahead of his sister, still in his royal attire and as Shiro had insisted wearing a circlet of his station. And Shiro – appeared stately, prepared and well-thought out in his Black Paladin uniform and a curated neutral expression.

 

Shiro quickly had Lance to a chair and was sliding him down to sit before he was at the throne.

 

The holographic projections around were still a constant stream, even bigger now in the room, looming over head. Three ships were destroyed and rubble floated around. The remaining two were lit up as cannons pointed straight at the massive black Galran ship. But they were--they were retreating. The Galactic Line had been broken.

 

Lance eyes flicked from one to the other.

 

In the time it had taken them to come to the room – the battle was basically over. And Altea hadn't won. And now – with the Galactic line broken the from behind Lance could see two more Galran ships approaching.

 

"Sire," Shiro's voice echoed from at the King's side.

 

Lances tipped his head and adjusted his gaze to observe his father. The great King of Altea – looked so very old at that moment. His skin sallow and wrinkled face in an expression of grief as he looked up to the main hologram broadcasting over their heads.

 

"Father," Allura stepped up then.

 

His deep ocean gaze jumping, Lance watched his sister carefully.

 

"Sir," Coran stepped up to Shiro, speaking in a barely audible tone. "Your ship is ready and your men have all been summoned. You'll have a full crew before the sun rises."

 

Shiro gave a gracious nod though his eyes never left the King before them.

 

Lance still just watched his sister. She'd already ignored Lance's advice once, and in that moment Lance hoped – not again. He disapproved of Iso on a more personal level but this... Lance knew he was right on this. It was an opportunity to unite them.

 

Allura glanced back, just the briefest moment to Lance.

 

"Maybe we should consider–" Allura turned her chin ticking up and her face suddenly the cool expression she cultured so well. "Voltron may be the swiftest form of action in times like this." She spoke to their father.

 

King Alfor–

 

Lance sucked in breath as the King tipped his head to look at Lance. A crystalline gaze, nearly identical to Allura's squared on Lance for the span of a breath before Alfor looked to his daughter so close to his side.

 

"Voltron will not leave Altea." Alfor spoke with no hesitation.

 

Shiro next to the king shifted uneasily, Lance caught the subtly but definite incremental lowering of Shiro's brow, his gaze narrowing.

 

"Then send Shiro," Allura spoke up.

 

It was a moment – Lance closed his eyes, breathing in relief and a feeling of victory.

 

"Sire–" Iso stepped up, looking briskly more awake that time as he surged up to the throne. His dagger sharp gaze slashed to Allura for half a moment before he was looking back to his King.

 

The king raised his hand at that moment, silencing the room.

 

"The Black Paladin will lead the initiative."

 

Shiro's heels clicked as he soldierly shot into a straight backed pose. "Sire."

 

"Iso, Red Paladin you will accompany him. As well, rouse the Yellow Paladin, Garrett and his accompanying fleet will act as reinforcements if need be, and in the meantime will set up as a final line between The Galra and Altea, just out of Varr's Orbit. ."

 

With an eerie sort of gaze, Alfor's eyes turned to Shiro. "You will terminate any Galra with in the Galactic Line."

 

Shiro dropped to a knee, his head bowed  and a fist pressed over his chest. "It will be done, Your Majesty." In a swift action he was up to his feet and already a few men around him looked eager and readying.

 

Alfor was already rising, a bow starting to ripple through the assembled Alteans as he did.

 

"Your Majesty." Lance shot to his feet.

 

Suddenly Pidge was there though, her hand reaching out to grasp Lance's wrist, swiftly tugging him back.

 

Lance was startled so violently he nearly jumped as he looked down, though managed to keep his balance. He'd never even noticed her enter the room let alone step up to him.

 

"Prince Lance?" King Alfor addressed him.

 

Startled, Lance looked up.

 

He'd nearly lost his nerve, nearly – but not entirely.

 

"I'd like to go as well." He said as neutrally as he could.

 

The carefully constructed face Shiro acquired at that moment let Lance know it wasn't an action he approved of.

 

"There must be a few Paladins remaining here," Allura suddenly spoke up. "But I feel my brother is right." She let Lance have one lingering look more before she looked to Alfor. "This mission would do well with a royal banner at the forefront."

 

Lance started to step forward only to be jerked again at his wrist, stilling him. He glared down at the Green Paladin, but Pidge's cat like eyes were gazing up at the King.

 

"You would like to go?" Alfor concluded with a raise of his brow to Allura.

 

"I believe it is only fitting, yes." Allura said. "I am the one that contradicted Paladin Shirogane. I need to be there to help him."

 

Alfor nodded. "Alright. As you wish. You will lead a royal ship at Shiro's second." Alfor looked back behind himself to Lance again.

 

"Two lions remaining here is wise," Pidge spoke up. "His Highness and I will remain."

 

Looking down at Pidge, he was filled – Lance jerked his head to his father again, his jaw clenched. This was not –  Lance felt indignation rise in the fisting of his hands at his sides.

 

Alfor nodded. "Yes, I do believe that is wise."

 

There was no arguing with a King – let alone Lance's own father.

 

So as Alfor turned, Lance did his very best to swallow down the cloying feeling in his throat, and breathed in slow through an open mouth.

 

"Disperse," Alfor released them, before turning to Coran to murmur. "I want updates every hour."

 

And the room was released, and suddenly full of action.

 

Lance wasted no time in snatching his wrist back from Pidge with haste. He rounded on her, his face a shadow.

 

"You need to stay here," Pidge explained simply. Her gaze was solid and self assured in a way Lance hadn't seen from her.

 

"You," Lance hissed. "will never touch me again."

 

Though the look in Pidge's eyes never faded, her head dipped as she bowed at the waist gracefully, "Your highness--"

 

He gave her no time for a retort as he turned on his heels again, aiming back straight up to the throne.

 

There was clusters of people now and Lance slowed his gait as he started to weave. He still managed to catch Shiro's gaze at him as Lance passed.  Lance quickly looked away and continued.

 

It wasn't lost on him as Shiro leaned in to the Black Allegiance guard at his disposal. "I want a constant guard on him while I'm gone…"

 

It wasn't till Lance reached his sister that he noticed–

 

Lance stilled and looked to his father exiting the room.

 

"Do you know that woman?" the question tumbled from his mouth as he watched the black robed figure, trailed by the slender, tall and similarly black robed acolytes.

 

Allura's eyes widened as she was startled by Lance's proximity and quickly she turned to follow Lance's gaze across the room.

 

"Honerva?" Allura asked. "Of course, Lance."

 

Allura turned her eyes to look at her brother.

 

Shaking his head, Lance turned back to his sister. "She introduced herself to me, just this evening." Lance said.

 

"She hasn't been at the palace long," Allura assured.

 

"I didn't know there was a black robed order," Lance commented.

 

"Neither did I," Allura agreed, "But–" Her voice dipped into a hushed tone. "Lance," Allura looped her arm through and around Lance's elbow.

 

Stealthily for a room crowded with people, Allura drew her brother a few steps away. "She – she drew our father from sickness, baby brother."

 

Lances head snapped back to Allura. "She's a healer?"

 

The deft nod, was accompanied with a sullen expression.

 

"It seemed to be one of the few moments Shiro didn't recognize someone before me," Lance spoke in a low and hushed tone close to his sister.

 

Allura nodded again. Her mouth opened to speak again–

 

"Your highness,"

 

Both Lance and Allura looked up at that moment, a servant just a few feet away clearing their throat.

 

"Prince Lance," They clarified.

 

"Yes?" Lance pulled in, hoping the usual sweet tone of his voice was present past the irritation.

 

It didn't seem to be s success from the way the servant straightened just a bit more and they nervously looked between the two royal siblings.

 

With a lick of their lips, the servant went on. "The Black Paladin has requested you accompany him in returning to your rooms."

 

Lance was very tempted in that moment to refuse.

 

But Allura was already slithering her arm out from looped at his elbow. "Of course, Lance you shouldn't keep your mate waiting."

 

Lance didn't move for a moment before he nodded. "Of course,"

 

Allura reached up though and hugged him suddenly though, giving her a moment to speak into his ear. "I'll come find you before I depart."

 

Lance gave a squeeze of his hand to acknowledge before he stepped away.

 

When Lance approached, Shiro quickly waved away the men speaking with him and held out an arm.

 

Lance took it, sliding his fingers in at the crook of Shiro's elbow.

 

It was silent for several seconds as Shiro led them out into the hallways.

 

Lance didn't look up to his mate. His eerie stillness already had Lance on edge and he glanced back at the throne room as they departed. He still had a desire to continue speaking with Allura, but the moment was already lost as she was being ushered out as well.

 

"That was foolish."

 

Startled, Lance was almost unsure Shiro had spoke at all.

 

It took a moment for Lance to build up the nerve to retort. "I wasn't going to be left behind without a fight."

 

"It's unsafe for you in Galra Space," Shiro snapped.

 

"It's technically Altean if I remember geography correctly," Lance hissed.

 

They were brought to a stop so abruptly it left Lance's eyes wide when Shiro rounded on him. "Not with the Galactic Line broken!"

 

Lance pulled in a sharp breath.

 

"Without Voltron, the risk of this mission is ten fold." Shiro hissed. His eyes level and drilled into Lance. "This isn't an issue up for discussion."

 

It was still before Lance pulled his hard away from Shiro, jerking it away from him. "I'm a trained pilot and a trained fighter."

 

"You're a prince that has never lost simply because no one has wanted to to beat you." Shiro hastily interjected.  "You're also my mate,"

 

"So if you would have liked, I would have been at your side." Lance concluded for him. “Shiro, you're not listening to me."

 

"I am," Shiro said with a short nod. "I just hear something different." His hand surged up to Lance's face, cupping his cheek. "I will not lose you, especially when one royal family member is already up there."

 

Lance's eyes narrowed at the comment but he still lifted his own hand to grasp Shiro's. "Since when have you shown a care to that?"

 

The way Shiro's face twisted wasn't pleasant. "I love my kingdom."

 

Nearly shaking is head, Lance still stopped himself from drawing back.

 

"Don't doubt that from me." Shiro hissed. "I've done more for this empire than most men will ever even accomplish in their entire lives."

 

It took a long moment for Lance to pull words together in his own head before he spoke. "I never have thought of you as unloyal."

 

"So maybe don't fight me over every decision?" Shiro snapped back.

 

It took a second but Lance abruptly stopped, his chin raising, as his chest swelled.

 

"This isn't your decision." Lance said coldly. "It’s my fathers."

 

The statement held in the air.

 

"I'm not -- your father."

 

Lance tipped his head. This was the second time Shiro had said those words to him. and they were so – the wrath in them was always bleeding through no matter how much Shiro tried to mask it with a stoic face or neutral tone.

 

"Than contradict him," Lance's brow lowered.

 

Shiro's face stayed in the same stony glare he had at Lance.

 

"Show me," Lance whispered viscously.

 

They were quarreling out in the open halls, black clad guards at their sides, but that didn't stop Lance from looking to his partner.

 

"I–" Lance breathed slow. "I need to see your world." He whispered. "I need to see what you're afraid of and what you see on the horizon."

 

Shiro didn't speak for a long moment before he nodded. His face had softened though even just the tiniest amount.  "You'll be privy to all council convening while I'm gone, you'll get updates probably close to hourly,"

 

Lance shook his head. "That's not what I mean."

 

"I know." Shiro was already straightening.

 

"You were prepared for what happened tonight," Lance spoke. "I need to see what you saw."

 

Shiro shook his head before he leaned his head in and his hand shifted to ever so delicately point Lance's chin up so Shiro could cooly slide his mouth against Lance's.

 

The kiss was brief but as they broke Shiro repeated against Lance's lips. "Not for such a cost."

 

With a snap of his fingers, Shiro had a black clad guard at his side, and with a few brisk words they were flanking Lance and accompanying him back to the Black Paladin Quarters.

 

* * *

 

Lance didn't remove his royal attire and instead opted to wait in the small sitting room he'd claimed for his own off the entryway parlor in the Black Paladin Quarters. It was nearly morning outside and the ships would be departing just before the suns rays graced the palace. There was no point in retiring to bed when with in an hour or so he'd just get up to bid his sister and mate off to space.

 

Nervously Lance fidgeted as he watched out his grand window, looking over the palace complex. He wasn't sure even if he had gone to bed if he could manage to sleep. Maybe, once Lance was assured his family was out of orbit and there was nothing else he could do.

 

At the sound of the door behind him, Lance turned.

 

Shiro carefully slid the door shut behind him before his eyes shifted up to Lance. He wore deep black obsidian armor. Much like his paladin suit, it was closely form fitting but the scale like plates across his chest and shoulders were clearly designed less to withstand the stress of flight and more for – combat.

 

Dropping his folded arms, Lance sheepishly slunk forward and in against Shiro.

 

The Black clad Paladin didn't comment as Lance delicately pressed a small kiss up to Shiro's lips. A black gloved hand even came up to run through the fluff of Lance's hair.

 

"I'm sorry," Shiro hummed down in a deep Alpha tone.

 

When Lance opened his eyes it was to be met with the most gentle look from Shiro. Ever so carefully, Shiro tipped Lance's chin up, pushing his head all the way back so he could dip in and press a kiss to the mark on Lance's neck.

 

Lance huffed out a long breath. "It's fine." He murmured as he let Shiro do as he wanted.

 

Warm breath against the sensitive pearl mark sent a shiver down Lance's spine and though smiling he squirmed.

 

With one last, lingering, open mouthing over the mark he pulled Lance back up to face him.

 

"I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, Your Highness." Shiro said as he let Lances chin go.

 

Easily Lance went with the movement and his hands came up to Shiro's obsidian black plate armor, his fingers running over the smooth surface.

 

"We fight." Lance said as small smile touched his lips. "It's how normal couples solve their problems."

 

They weren't normal though.

 

"I've brought Honerva." Shiro spoke in a quiet tone. "We shouldn't keep her waiting."

 

Perplexed, Lance blinked. "Why?"

 

Shiro was quiet for a second more, a sign he was considering his words. "I think it would be wise to have you implanted."

 

Lance blinked again, his mind furiously trying to process the information. "What?" He was so – that didn't make any sense. He just apologized for making a decision for Lance, and now he was doing it again?

 

"This is a reasonable time. " Shiro's level voice was neutral. "The implant will take a few weeks to become fully effective. It'll coincide with my absence, and by the time I'm back we won't need to worry."

 

Lance shook his head. his brow lowering as he stepped away from Shiro. "That's not an explanation of why I would need one. Why you thought I needed one!"

 

It was Shiro's turn to look surprised.

 

"An heir is expected." Lance tried to implore. "Allura is still unmated. My family is expecting me to produce an heir for the throne. If anything happens to Allura or me, there has to be a continuation. I'm sure it’s been questioned as to why I'm not producing already."

 

Shiro's mouth pulled into a grave line. "Your value to me, isn't linked to a child."

 

Lance shook his head. "That doesn't matter, Shiro." He tried to soften his gaze to imploring. "My family has to come first, my kingdom has to take precedence."

 

Shiro's brow lowered. "Lance that's entirely irrational."

 

"No, it's just a different perspective than yours." Lance pointed out. "I know, you don't understand but it's been expected of me since I presented."

 

"You really want a child that bad?" Shiro questioned.

 

That – that stopped Lance.

 

"Do you –" Lance pulled his hands in closer. "Do you not want an heir from me?" He felt terribly fragile at that moment.

 

"No," Shiro cut in. "That's –" His face turned graver. "I didn't ask you about an heir." He stepped forward. "Your duty to them –" He looked conflicted like he wanted to keep speaking but the way his jaw clenched suggested he was strained in holding back. "I'm not going to give you a child neither of us would be prepared for."

 

Fidgety, Lance looked to the floor. "It's expected." He repeated. "You don't understand. I have to."

 

"Allura is engaged." Shiro huffed. "There's no reason for it to be you."

 

"I was told it needs to be me," Lance shot back.

 

He looked strained again, fists at his sides. "You owe so very little to them." He said in a hushed hiss. "You're not their opinions of you."

 

With a defiant look, Lance turned his body slightly from Shiro. "If you don't want an heir from me, we can arrange to have it some other way." He tried his best to keep his chin high and his form still, despite the sudden need to tremble to pieces. "I'm sorry I've pressured you for – for affection," Lance knew his voice cracked but he still powered on. "I didn't realize I wasn't – what you wanted. We can have a surrogate system arranged. It's ideal for it to be yours so it will just –"

 

Shiro was grasping his shoulder so fiercely Lance nearly jumped as Shiro's hand struck out. If nothing else, the action succeeded in snapping Lance's gaze up to his face.

 

Shiro stepped forward again and this time was so very close to Lance. The moment stayed still and quiet for several seconds and Lance tried to avert his eyes again.

 

It wasn't much use as Shiro consumed him so close.

 

"Do _you_ really want a child?" Shiro asked carefully. "Putting aside what's expected of you, do you really want to go through that experience right now?"

 

His fingers weren't allowed to be fidgety this time. "I don't – Shiro I – we don't have a choice."

 

"Lance, do you want a baby?" Shiro asked.

 

His answer was in the cool silence that followed.

 

With a calm exhale Shiro straightened. His hand was already brushing through Lance's hair. Carefully he slide the silver circlet from Lance's head and set it aside on a nearby side table. "I won't force it on you."

 

Lance nodded, his eyes still averted.

 

"I didn't think you would be this opposed." Shiro tried to explain. He was straightening though his expression distant, even calculating.

 

"I –" Lance shook his head again, pleading. "I don't have a choice."

 

Shiro's expression softened though just marginally. "You have a choice in this moment. Do you want an implant?"

 

Lance stayed still his eyes restless and he tried not to look up into Shiro's eyes but felt continually drawn back.

 

There was  a soft exhale form his mate. Though Shiro's expression betrayed nothing. "I'll go –"

 

"I want it," Lance blurted before Shiro could finish.

 

There was another long pause. Taking an offered cue from Shiro, Lance turned a bit more, his fidgety hands removed a ring and another piece of jewelry linking his middle finger and wrist. The silence lasted a breath more, maybe it was time Shiro was making sure Lance wouldn't change his mind. Lance just frowned and didn't look up.

 

"Your highness,"

 

The formal address finally brought Lance's gaze up to meet Shiro's again.

 

"I want the implant." Lance whispered, though he turned away almost immediately.

 

Shiro stood still before him for the span of a breath.

 

"Would you be more comfortable if I brought the healers in here?"

 

Shoulders slightly slouched, Lance nervously rubbed his hand over his other arm. "Yeah." He murmured. He felt – his throat felt like it might close up any moment. He shouldn't – he had responsibilities...

 

Shiro gave a brisk nod and stepped away. He opened the door just enough to give a glance and a beckoning gesture before he was stepping back to Lance's side.

 

"It'll be easier if you're sitting," Shiro spoke at Lance's ear.

 

Lance gave a short nod and sat uneasily at the edge of the sofa. Shiro stayed standing next to him, his hand running through Lance's hair in a smooth slow pet, his fingers rubbing over Lance's scalp.

 

As before, the black robed acolytes looked eerily tall and slender as they entered. Honerva and two others slid in.

 

"Your highness," Honerva gave a deep bow to Lance.

 

A nod was the most he felt like he could imagine.

 

The instrumentation it looked like for the actual procedure was very little.

 

"We'll need a bit of your blood so we can sync the hormone levels." This tall robed figure was actually a man Lance realized.

 

Still feeling nervous, Lance reached his hand out.

 

There was a shifting and Lance's long intricate sleeves were expertly being removed.

 

"No worries, your highness," Hoth spoke. "We will take the sample blood from one arm and place the implant in your other."

 

"Okay," Lance murmured.

 

"The implant is very commonly used," Hoth went on the somans face maybe seeing Lances hesitance. "It may not be as – appropriate in the court, but I assure you it’s very safe."

 

"Willl it –" Lance hated to admit how very little he knew about  it. "Will I still have heats?"

 

"Yes," The male one answered as he took Lance's wrist and cleaned the skin with a small disinfectant cloth. "We'll make sure it won't affect your cycle at all. The implant is for prevention not to inhibit your balance."

 

"Of course," Lance said.

 

The acolytes didn't seem to need communication as wordlessly the man pressed a long clear tube over Lance's skin. He clicked the top and –

 

Lance gasped, nearly jerking away.

 

A needle was punched into him and the tiny tube was filling quickly. Before it could be topped off, the man removed it with another click and Honerva pressed a small bandage to the spot.

 

"You'll be able to remove this by the end of the day." Honerva said, her crystalline eyes flicking up to connect with Lance's gaze.

 

"Alright." Lance said.

 

The man handed the blood off to the third acolyte in the room. This one a far older woman with deft fingers clicked the blood into a small egg shaped machine she carried in her palm. Rings around the egg lit up and there was a very small whirring sound.

 

"How long?" Lance looked up to Shiro.

 

Shiro looked to Honerva.

 

"We can program it up to five years."

 

Looking back down to Lance Shiro brushed his hand back through the crest of Lance's head. "How long would you like?"

 

Lance considered. "Five seems like a long time." Lance admitted.

 

Shiro nodded slow. "Would you consider three more acceptable?"

 

"Uh.." Lance wasn't sure. It felt like a larger decision than he was ready for. "I – yeah. Yeah, three seems fair."

 

There was a small click and the rings on the small egg lit blue. A small capsule was produced and the older woman took it and slid it into some sort of needle gun.

 

Once the gun was in Hoth's hand the man kneeling at Lance's side was wiping another cloth over the soft underside of his elbow.

 

"The injection site will be sore for a couple of days, but there will be no lasting pain." The man spoke. "Just keep it bandaged and clean until it's healed. It should be in three to four days.”

 

Hoth pressed the end to Lance's arm and without a word, the needle punched into Lance.

 

Lance hissed, his shoulders hunching and his hands fisted.

 

Removing the gun, there as a small beading of Lance's blood and a imprinted red ring around the site, But quickly the man pressed a gauze pad to the site and wrapped Lance's elbow in a round of tape.

 

"He's safe." Honerva spoke very quietly as she exchanged a glance with Shiro.

 

Shiro didn't react.

 

"Fold your arm up,"

 

Lance realized the instruction was to him and he bent his elbow up.

 

"We need to be leaving," The older woman spoke quietly to the man. The man gave a small touch to Honera's shoulder and the woman acknowledged.

 

“You’ll check on him,”  Shiro’s commanding Alpha tone rung through the room as he looked to the acolytes, his gaze fleeting between Honerva and the man.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Lance whispered, tipping his head towards Shiro.

 

Shiro glazed down at him. “I’d believe that if you didn’t have a habit of not telling anyone when you’re not fine.” He whispered in return.

 

“I will come by,” The man volunteered.

 

Shiro nodded, satisfied.

 

It wasn't till they were all filtering out of the room that full realization started to seep through Lance. He wasn't sure if he felt relieved or--or scared.  But as Lance tested his arm again, feeling the tug of the bandage against his skin he was aware of Shiro next to him. The sigh he gave was clear before he leaned in and kissed Lance’s hair tenderly. He was relieved.

 

* * *

 

His formal farewell to Shiro passed all too quickly. It was a showing of farewell. Lance knew it would be considered gaudy to even kiss his mate under the eyes of so many so the most Shiro did was embrace him. Iso was near, his own flag ship departing at the same time

 

As soon as it was over, Lance locked eyes with his sister in a brief glance. The royal flag ship was scheduled to leave an hour after, giving Lance enough time to  catch his sister one more time before she was gone.

 

Lance was flanked by two black allegiance guards as he entered the hanger of the flag ship. His sister was already waiting for him at the corner. Her hair was drawn up and though wearing a thickly fur lined coat she looked ready for the journey ahead.

 

"Wait for me here," Lance murmured to the two guards before he stalked to psi sister.

 

"You look tired," Allura gave a small sad smile.

 

Lance gave a cheek grin in return. "And yet still the most handsome Blue Paladin in the entire universe!" He crossed his arms under the dark blue cloak.

 

Allura rolled her eyes. "You should have taken the preparation time to sleep."

 

Lance gave a shrug. "I'll fall into bed once you lot have had one last chance to memorize my face." Another grin sprouted. "Besides I had to give Shiro a chance to memorize – the rest of me."

 

The scolding look Allura pointed at him was only half hearted though as she heaved a sigh. "And just when I'd thought you'd managed to mature even just fractionally."

 

"I am the perfect prince I'll have you know!" It was Lance's turn to roll his eyes as he led the way farther out in the hanger, leading then out in to the first few rays of the rising sun.

 

"You're currently Altea's only prince," Allura threw the sass out as they approached the outlooking edge of the massive ship hanger.

 

"Oh good," Lance smiled. "Than it's consensus."

 

Looking out over the palace, Lance realized from that height – it was one of the few places he could see past the tall walls surrounding the palace complex. Beyond sprawled the Altea capital in a gleaming whites and bright teals and accented in the royal banners of deep midnight blue.

 

"I know you want to be on that ship, coming with me," Allura spoke.

 

Lance pulled in a breath. "Shiro made it clear that's not a decision he supported so even without father’s overbearing protection I'm afraid I probably would still be stuck here."

 

With a snort, Allura crossed her arms. "I don't think our father has ever let you off the face of Altea."

 

"Once," Lance corrected, tipping his head in her direction. "After I was made the Blue Paladin, he let me tour the colonies with the rest of Voltron."

 

"I don't remember that." Allura admitted.

 

"You were already in space," Lance recalled. "You – he let you go every time you asked."

 

"Why does he do that?" Lance suddenly asked jerking his head towards his sister.

 

Allura's shoulders dropped "I don't know, baby brother. He has always been rather fond of you."

 

Lance huffed out a breath. "It doesn't feel like that– It's always, it's like he's careful with me."

 

Raising his hand he tested out his elbow a bit more. The sting that shot through him was almost immediate, and he dropped his arm.

 

It wasn't till Lance looked over that he realized Allura had been watching him.

 

"What happened?" She inquired with a tip of her head.

 

Lance shook his head. “It's nothing."

 

She was already stepping forward though, "No, let me see." She reached for his arm. "You've got it wrapped."

 

Horrifically Lance realized at that moment he didn't have any sort of excuse for the implant site. He shifted his arm away. "It's nothing. " He joked again. "I'm just clumsy."

 

Allura's head tipped this time as well, but not in a way Lance was fond of. "We very much know that's not true at all. You've always been surprisingly light on your feet." Her eyes narrowed. "When our governess was trying to teach me grace, you were already floating through rooms."

 

Nervously Lance tried to play it off again with only a half truth. "It's just sore. I'll be better before you ever get back."

 

"Sore from what?" Allura reached this time and snatched up Lance's wrist.

 

"Lance," Her narrow eyes turned to Lance once she'd had a look. "This has been treated, what happened?"

 

"It was nothing," Lance trie to assure again."Honerva treated it for me. And she assured me it's just fine."

 

"Honerva?" allura looked surprised. "But – what did you have done?" Her expression turned to skeptical.

 

Lance wasn't sure he could lie to his sister. "Shiro and I–" He stalled. "We, Shiro thought it would be a good idea to have me--" He tried to construct the words before blurting them out for once. "He was worried and he just wanted me to be safe." Lance shook his head. "It was just immunization."

 

Allura released Lance's arm and crossed her arms. Maybe it was because she never expected her brother to lie to her or because there was a bigger question n looming over them but Lance could see the moment his excuse was accepted in the change of her expression.

 

"Shiro gotten comfortable with Honerva? So quickly"

 

Lance tipped his head to consider. "He seems indifferent to her if I'm honest. But I think whatever she's done for father, it's been relayed to him. He trusts her as a healer at the least."

 

Allura still didn't look comforted. "Well she's remaining here." She unfolded her arms. "Keep an eye out."

 

Lance gestured to his side, in the distance the two black clad guards stayed exactly where Lance had commanded but still watched and still lingered. "As close as I can manage."

 

Allura's eyes narrowed past Lance. "That doesn't comfort me."

 

"I don't think they're meant to be there for you," Lance pointed out with a cheeky grin. He gave a lazy roll of his shoulders. "Unfortunate for them."

 

Allura gave her own sly smile. "Don't give them too much trouble," She gave Lance a scolding look.

 

Lance gave a mock gasp. "Me?" He placed a hand over his chest. "Why I would never strand a set of guards in the middle of the garden mazes? I'm slightly appalled you would suggest it."

 

Allura snorted. "You know,  I'm not sure I know anyone else that knows those gardens better."

 

"I am perfectly safe here."Lance simple explained. "It's not my fault Shiro hasn't caught on yet why I don't even have my own blue guards for a reason."

 

"If I do remember correctly, you used to," Allura pointed out. "Father scolded them quite often, I remember."

 

Lance shrugged. "It's not my fault they got lost so often. Maybe they should have learned to keep up better." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's not like I'm allowed to leave this palace, there’s not much that could happen to me here."

 

Allura still had her head tipped to the side, eyes narrow as she considered Lance. "Do you think you can do it again?" She asked. "Can you out fox those black cloaks?"

 

Lance didn't answer verbally,. But his eyes slid to the side as he glance at the  men standing perfectly straight at attention, black armor gleaming and long black cloaks tussling in the slight breeze of the open hanger.

 

"I'm not worried."

 

Allura smiled in return.

 

* * *

 

As much as Lance wanted sleep at that point. He already had a council meeting lined up, so after a change of clothes and few moments to himself in their porcelain lined bathroom, Lance stood before the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

 

When they did--Lance realized he's forgotten about one thing...

 

Two Paladins had stayed behind.

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at Lance.

 

"Are you getting on or what?" She snarked at him.

 

Lance waved to the guards at his sides, "I'm sure I'll be fine until the meeting is over."

 

It wasn't surprising when one of the guards looked at him, his expression clear. More than likely they were instructed not to leave Lance unless he was in his own room.

 

"No need to crowd all us in," Lace said as he stepped away from the two very tall and broad men Shiro had more than likely hand-picked. "I'll be with another Paladin after all and later in a room full of the royal guard, I’ll be fine."

 

Lance was a bit surprised when his excuse seemed to be taken and the guards let him pass through the threshold alone.

 

Pidge snarkily leaned around Lance and gave a wave, "Bye Crabbe and Goyle!"

 

It wasn't till the doors slid closed that Lance turned his scowl to Pidge.

 

"Oh come on!" She rolled her shoulders back in a gesture out to them. "It's only obvious Shiro picked the two biggest men he could find!"

 

Lance huffed as he crossed his arms and shifted to stand next to the Green paladin just as the elevator light up and started to move. "I can only hope they're as stupid as they look," He huffed under his breath.

 

Pidge snickered into her glove. "I highly doubt that."

 

Lance's arms fell away and he huffed again.

 

Pidge peered over and through the layered folds of Lance's new royal attire. "Something happen?"

 

Paranoia proven forth baring again, Lance immediately hiked his sleeve up over his elbow, covering wrappings more thoroughly.

 

"Immunizations." The lie came easier to Lance's lips. "We thought it would be wise."

 

Pidge blinked at Lance for a second even shaking her head a bit. "Right." She made a scrunched expression. "You guys thought it would be a great idea — in the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep or ridiculously distracted by impending doom. Perfect time for a booster shot!”

 

Slowly, Lance turned narrow eyes over to Pidge.

 

"You should pin your sleeve up, The wrappings will keep making it fall." Pidge started to pry at her own overly embroidered uniform. With in a few seconds she'd produced a small silver pin.

 

With narrow eyes, Lance used it to pin the sleeve up and under his richly adorned shoulder cap.

 

“What did the two of you really have done?" Pidge asked quietly and without the added accusation.

 

Lance averted his gaze still fiddling with the sleeve.

 

Pidge leaned in to try to sneak Lance's gaze. "Orrrrr did you have something done behind Flotsom and Jetsom’s watchful guardianship!"

 

That managed to earn a glare from Lance. "I wouldn't do that to Shiro," Lance hissed under his breath.

 

"So it was the two of you," Pidge straightened with a smug little shimmy of her shoulders. "Now whatever would the two of you need done, that no one else could know about? ...and something that would need done say possibly as soon as possible?" Her cat like eyes slowly swung around to look up through her hair at Lance.

 

Pulling on the best impression of his sister that Lance could manage, Lance stared straight ahead at the elevators holographic numbers slowly turning over as they ascended farther.

 

"You don't wanna give an old man some new hope, Your Highness?" Pidge's snide expression was back as Lance looked at her. "It is your duty after all – to continue the lineage, to bring forth the next generation of this shining dynasty!"

 

Lance's gaze narrowed on the green Paladin.

 

"There's no telling with Allura after all," Pidge went on with a casual shrug. "It's fairly common for Alpha females to be infertile and – well that's not so much your case."

 

Pidge never threw shallow punches, Lance noted to himself as he looked at her.

 

"Princess Allura." Lance corrected, with narrowed eyes.

 

"Of course, no disrespect meant, Your Highness."  Pidge ducked her head in a tiny bow.

 

There was just enough of a hint of sarcasm Lance felt uncomfortable with the statement.

 

"It's just an injection site." Lance tried to sound exasperated with Pidge's speculating.

 

Pidge leaned in "At the crook of your elbow," She pointed out. "Probably with a lingering little red ring..." Her smile lingered still. "I am a Beta, you know that right, Your Highness?"

 

Lance simply turned back to face the elevator doors. "It was for immunizations. We thought it wise in case I do end up going to space. "

 

"Deny deny deny," Pidge said in hushed tone, though venom drooled from the statement so think Lance swore he could hear the drip of it to the floor. "The battle cry of the imperials."

 

Lance didn't turn only watched the holographic numbers slowly turning over. His mind slowly turned over as well Pidges viciously whispered oath.

 

"Was it his idea?" Pidge spoke after a second. "Or yours?"

 

The elevator slowed its ascent. Lance turned just as it came to a halted freeze.

 

"I wanted it." He firmly said.

 

Pidge tipped her head up at him a brow raised and the way she smiled at him in that second--Lance could swear she almost looked proud.

 

* * *

 

  
When the doors slid open, Lance – balked.

 

Pidge laughed first as the two stiff, black clad guards shifted at the sight of the two. They were turned away, though at the ding of the elevator one turned to greet them.

 

Lance was unsure what to even say.

 

"Your highness," The tallest, dipped his head at the sight of Lance.

 

Lance gave a short nod in return.

 

"Did you two fuckin' marathon up the stairs?" Pidge still snickered as she exited first, by passing the guards and headed straight to the council room.

 

Lance reluctantly but much grumpier than he had been, followed after her.

 

As the second of Lance's assigned guard moved as well though Lance froze.

 

"Your highness," The bow Keith gave was quite possibly the most mocking thing Lance had ever witnessed in his life.

 

Between Pidge and Keith Lance wasn't sure who he preferred, but if an old moldy shoe was a third option Lance was pretty confident in his choice.

 

"You were gone so long, I wondered if you were dead." Lance monotoned. His guard around him were already shifting to flank him. "I see you're unfortunately not."

 

"Unfortunately."  Keith echoed with quirk of a grin. "If only to return to your charm, Your Highness."

 

Lance huffed, feeling thoroughly surrounded.

 

"He's not here," Lance dispensed with the pleasantries. "You've just missed him by about four hours."

 

Keith gave a nod. "I thought it was obvious I've returned for you." The mocking grin only irked Lance farther.

 

Lance cast a look over his companion. "You could have at least bothered with a hair brush then."

 

"A mistake in my haste," Keith switched back to his stoic monotone. "Shall we?" He gestured down the grand hallway to the council rooms.

 

Lance barely spared Keith a glance as he passed. "Only if I've got no other options,"

 

The slight curve of a creeping smile never comforted Lance when it was from Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i), [Shiro and Lance by Vero](https://mobile.twitter.com/roseraiess/status/976300378114281473)

The morning after everyone left — Lance awoke to knocking on his door. After he managed to pull himself out of bed, sloppy and more than half asleep he was met as he opened his door by Keith. 

 

“Morning,” the wild thing clearly hadn’t become articulate in the time he’d been away. 

 

Lance blearily looked around. …what? What time was it? Standing in his pajamas at the door he wasn’t sure, and as he looked around there wasn’t a clock in sight. “Who are they?” Lance pointed to the guards — all of them. Were they on lock down or something? 

 

Behind Keith was a set of two guards, and stationed at the door were two more. 

 

It was all slowly rolling back to Lance. Shiro was gone. Keith was back — and Lance now had company.  

 

Keith craned to look back at the guards. “No better time than now to introduce you,” He drawled. “May we come in?”

 

He was being nice — Lance didn’t trust a nice Keith. It was also, Lance finally realized as he started to wake up, too damn early for this. 

 

There hadn’t even really been a night before. Lance had spent every moment in conferences or in goodbye’s. He didn’t think he even made it back to his apartments till the early hours of morning—and now… 

 

With a hand in his bedhead, Lance turned to welcome his guests into his entryway. 

 

Three men stepped through as Lance retreated to pull on a blue robe from his bedroom. When he returned they all stood militarily stiff in his sitting room. 

 

“Shiro has assigned you a personal guard.” Keith stated. 

 

Brilliant. Lance blinked for several seconds before nodding. 

 

“This is the head of your guard, and your new personal shadow,” Keith stepped to the side as he gestured to the man. 

 

At last he was being honest. 

 

The hulking figure took several steps towards Lance, though did not remove his helmet. He wore black, and the symbol of the black paladin was on every piece of his armor, he wore a hood even as well and as he approached, Lance wondered if he was even taller than Shiro. 

 

“Your highness,” The helmet gave his voice a sort of hollow tone to it. He bowed his head as he slid to one knee for just a moment before he lifted out and slid back to stand. “My name is Antok.” 

 

It was a long way up, as Lance craned his neck to the hulking man before him. 

 

“It’s-“ Lance stalled for just a second. “it’s a pleasure.” 

 

Keith was already wandering closer. “He’ll be accompanying you from now on.” 

 

Lance shifted his gaze. Keith wasn’t looking at Lance. He instead was drifting towards one of the couches, already making himself at home. 

 

Right. The huge man before Lance was so big he nearly shadowed Lance. 

 

“The first council meeting has already started.” Keith drawled. 

 

Startled, Lance looks dover. “What?” 

 

Lance was stand-in for Shiro on the council until he got back. Scrambling, Lance was already charging back to his room. It was too damn early for this — and Lance was already behind on his duties. Antok was rather quiet as he walked and he took up a position at the door, hands behind his back, waiting patiently. The other black armored man in the room did the same. 

 

Great. He was starting this all out just great. 

 

* * *

 

Lance shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He'd felt — off since that morning. Lance couldn't say he particularly enjoyed ever getting up and out of bed, but that morning… he'd basically had to force himself to get up and start pulling on clothes in order to be ready in time for the regular morning updates meeting. 

 

All the meetings were so god damn boring. 

 

“There was a report of a cruiser possibly spotted shortly after the attack.” A general read. 

 

Lance had always wished to be more involved, had always tried his best to make himself seem like he could handle the responsibility. 

 

“Possibly?” A councilman spoke up near him. 

 

But now that he was sitting in meetings all day — they were the most awful thing he could think of. They were usually far too long, with men far older than him speaking like they actually knew what they were talking about when the truth was no one really knew what was going on. And they kept looking to Lance like he possibly had answers. 

 

“Well in the chaos there was several unconfirmed reports, sir.” The soldier said. 

 

That’s incredibly unhelpful, Lance nearly said. But instead he just rested his face against his hand as he leaned across the table. 

 

In his sister’s and mate’s absence, Lance's place had been moved directly to his fathers left. And since his father only attended roughly half of the meetings scheduled, that put Lance at the forefront of the room with old stodgy men all staring up at him like he had answers. Lance had no such thing. 

 

There was more chatter and a few more back and forth. One report was that a fleet was coming up on Altea’s southern rear, another that a star-cruiser had been seen landing near the capital, another that the goddess herself had been sighted. And on and on. Lance nearly yawned. 

 

God he was incredibly tired. 

 

"We will reconvene in two hours," The high council elder proclaimed as he stood. 

 

Lance welcomed the recess as he was almost immediately standing himself. 

 

It had been two weeks since the forces dispatched into space had left the face of Altea. there was a tremor of nervousness in the room as it was still unconfirmed when they would be returning. The white flagged banner ships were all still at the ready, waiting just outside of Altea's Moons to be called into action if needed. 

 

Lance scrunched his nose as he felt the twinge he'd been feeling all morning. His insides felt like they'd been tied into knots. He resisted the urge to bow over as he made his way to the door. 

 

As expected, two towering Black-clad guards met him at the door, standing at attention as Lance approached. 

 

"I expect you'll be joining the others for lun--" Keith bored monotone stopped just as he stepped up to Lance. His brow creased in a way that narrowed his eyes. "Lance," 

 

Lance felt like his limbs were failing him and moved sluggishly as he prodded out of the council rooms. "No," He didn't bother to correct Keith this time. "I'm going to my rooms."  _ To lay down for a while. _

He felt like he'd gotten out of bed too soon, despite a full night's rest, he felt like he'd been pulled from bed far too soon for the day. All he could think about was returning to bed. 

 

A couple hours of sleep would do him some good, Lance thought. 

 

Though the lack of jabs directed Lance to look up. 

 

Keith was hanging back a few steps, watching Lance with a narrow gaze, his shoulders held meticulously still. 

 

It was an odd stare, Keith's eyes unwavering from Lance as he stood a bit straighter, his mouth pressed hard into his trademark flat line. 

 

"Were you hungry?" Lance inquired, remembering his manners suddenly. He was a Prince. His needs needed to come second. 

 

His black-clad guards moved around him, flanking him and ready to escort him back to his rooms. 

 

"Something could be sent up." Lance said. "I'm--" He didn't want to admit he wasn't feeling well. "- Just not very hungry." Lance tried.  

 

Keith still hung back, the rather cold expression still on his face. 

 

It was the span of a very long breath before Keith spoke. 

 

Keith's level gaze on Lance didn't falter. "No, that's alright, Your Highness." he dipped his head. 

 

Unsure how to take his much more stoic companion, Lance gave a nod and turned to the guard next to him. "Have someone sent just before the council reconvenes --"

 

"I'll come to let you know." Keith jumped in. 

 

Lance peered back at him. 

 

Keith's face was away from the light, standing with a tall window behind him so Lance could barely make out  his shadowed expression.

 

"Very well," Lance murmured softly. 

 

"Please get His Highness back to his rooms," Keith's head jerked to the tall Black Guard. " _ Safely. _ " 

 

The guard, Antok, Lance remembered, gave a short nod to Keith. 

 

They obeyed Keith, Lance had discovered over the last fortnight. They obeyed Lance and they obeyed Keith. If it suited them, they would sometimes humor Pidge. But they always obeyed Keith. It was a fact that didn't sit well with Lance, unsure if it came down to it—which of the two of their orders took precedence. 

 

"Thank you," Lance said quietly to Keith. 

 

Keith gave no answer, only turned his attention to the guards around Lance and motioned with his hands for them to go on. 

 

The escort had been more than a exasperating at first but as Lance walked down the long empty halls to his rooms he realized it was becoming familiar to hear the metal boots at attention at both sides of him. The guards could be lost, if Lance really tried, but unlike others of the past they diligently kept looking, and though Lance did know how to lose them he had yet to figure out a way to stay lost. 

 

"Your Highness," Antok said as he held the door to Lance's room open. 

 

Lance looked up from his thoughts. "Oh," he couldn't deny he was startled at already being to his rooms. "Thank you," Lance said as he tiredly retreated through the doorway. 

 

Antok closed the door behind him, securing it closed. 

 

Lance paid it no mind as he went straight to the massive postered bed he'd had all to himself lately. He didn't bother removing a single piece of his elaborate garments before he climbed up on the bed. He had enough sense to pull his soft boots off, letting them slump to the floor before he himself fell into the mattress, across the goose feather comforters and all. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance wasn't sure what time he woke, but outside — the sun was hanging outside Lance's bedroom window. No doubt the bright shining had been what had woken him, blaring against his eyes and forcing him up.  

 

He pushed himself up on the bed, looking around himself. It seemed no one had disturbed the room. Not a single person had come for him. Lance growled. Right. Last time he ever trusted Keith with this sort of thing.

 

Lance stepped off the bed — only to nearly double. 

 

He felt worse than ever. His middle felt cramped and hurt. His head felt woozy and heavy and pounded. The moment his foot touched the floor it was as if his legs protested the action and wanted to give way. The room settled around him off kilter and Lance gulped down a deep breath—as the air around him stilled, the room finally stopped careening and he could straighten. 

 

But despite the gnawing feeling of his insides, Lance gave a huff and forced himself to stand all the way. 

 

None of that mattered, Lance bargained with himself. The council may be boring but with in a moments notice, news of his sister — of his mate could come in. Lance grabbed onto the bed covers using them to pull himself up to search for his shoes. He wasn't going to miss the meetings. All he had to do was sit there for god’s sake. If he could just get to the council rooms he'd be fine. 

 

They'd all leer at him for his tardiness but there was little Lance could do about that now. 

 

He'd pulled on his shoes, one by one as he went, and by the time Lance reached the door he was back to some semblance.  His hand pushed down on the door handle first once then — twice. 

 

Lance's head shot up as he adjusted his cloths, confusion evident in the creasing of his brow. 

 

"Why's it locked?" he murmured. 

 

Lance didn't care enough though, so he simply flipped the switch and turned the handle once more, stepping out. 

 

Lance stopped as he found himself in a darkened, empty hallway, completely alone. 

 

That was odd. 

 

He still didn't have time to investigate though. Maybe Keith found him sleeping and decided to give the guards the rest of the day while Lance rested. 

 

Determined, Lance started down the hallway. 

 

It was when he reached the farthest end that Lance found his perpetual shadows. Antok looked up, startled, before alerting his companion. 

 

"Your Highness," The black guard stepped forward, though his head was tilted as if he was confused. 

 

Lance fixed his collar. His uniform was a bit wrinkled from his sleep but it wasn't enough for Lance to be concerned. His collar felt tight up against his throat but he pulled at it enough to loosen it up. 

 

"I'm already late," Lance grumbled as he started towards the council halls again, "Come on," 

 

Antok and  -- Lance could never remember the other ones name, He rarely spoke and never removed his helmet either -- quickly flanked him. 

 

"Are you sure, Your Highness?" Antok implored to him. 

 

Lance tipped his head at the guard. It must be more obvious than Lance thought that he wasn't feeling well. 

 

Clearing his throat, Lance brushed the guard off with a smooth gesture of his hand. "My presence is required." He hoped his tone was enough to make it final. 

 

Antok stepped back to flanking Lance a step or so away. "Of course, Your Highness." 

 

There was nothing else said until they reached the well-lit hall leading into the Council room. The tall windows lined one side and at the double door entrance Lance could see Pidge quietly trying to sneak out. Two white and deep blue dressed Kings guards stood at the doors. 

 

Lance opened his mouth to greet the smaller Green Paladin --

 

"Uhhhhnn," Lance nearly doubled as the pain in his low abdomen speared through him. He stumbled forward to one of the white pillars, bracing himself. 

 

"Lance!" Pidge yelped and rushed to him. 

 

The four guards all jumped to action as well. Lance's guard was instantly less than a foot away and the King’s guards were coming forward in deep strides, all with a chorus of, "Your Highness!" 

 

Dizziness doused Lance like he'd just stepped through a waterfall, and the world around him was back to careening. But through the stars in his eyes he managed to see Pidge very close to him. Lance's hand went to his stomach, fisting his uniform into his hands and his teeth grit from the clenching pain. His insides felt tense, like they were allent through a blender. 

 

"I'm fine." Lance hissed, though he leaned heavier on the pillar, resting his shoulder against it. 

 

Pidge's sharp eyes looked him over before glancing at the guards around him. "Where has he been?" She inquired to the Kingsguard. 

 

Antok stepped up to speak instead. "He's been in his room." Antok looked up to the Kingsguard hovering over them. 

 

"I need to be in that council meeting." Lance tried to reaffirm. 

 

Pidge glanced at the Kingsguard as well. "Lance, what's wrong?" 

 

Lance grit his teeth as he managed to focus on Pidge, "I told you, I'm fine." 

 

"Your Highness," Antok stepped closer. 

 

That’s when Pidge sucked in a full breath, pondering what to do up until the moment —

 

"Lance." 

 

"Prince," Lance snipped but laughed after. It wasn't like he was all that intimidating slumped against the wall. 

 

"Prince Lance," Pidge corrected with a surprising lack of sarcasm. “How — how is it?" 

 

Lance looked over to her, his brow lowered at the vague question till he saw her tugging at her right sleeve, tugging it upward in a clear gesture for him to catch. Right, the Kingsguard were still watching them. And the last thing they needed were rumors among the servants. Today it would be he had an implant and before sunset the story would be Shiro had aborted their unborn child with his bare hands. Or worse — there could be rumors of Lance having affairs. Oh, that would not make any of this easier. 

 

Lance blinked a couple of times. trying to think. Right, he got it the night Shiro left and that was nearly three weeks ago. 

 

"I should," Lance stumbled over his words. "I should be fine." 

 

Pidge nodded slow. "It must be natural then." 

 

Lance jerked his head up at that. "Excuse me?" He snapped. He pushed himself away from the pillar and back into standing. 

 

"Lance," Pidge’s eyes were on him. She glanced around him again. "You probably should go back to your room." 

 

Lance tilted his head. Who was this little — the pain was back again and Lance nearly didn't catch himself this time on the pillar. Antok jumped forward but seemed to reconsider quickly. 

 

There was one more breath before Antok simply stepped behind Lance and, with a hand at his back, helped him stand. 

 

"Okay," Lance managed. But he still hadn't given up. "I swear. I'm fine, I just — once I’m in there I can sit down. I need to know if any news comes in." 

 

The pressing of Pidge's lips was obvious as she stepped forward delicately, "Lance, you smell like honey." 

 

That finally stopped him, and Lance's knees nearly buckled. 

 

Thankfully, Pidge looped herself up under his arm and held him up. 

 

Lance's eyes searched the floor. "It can't be," He said in a hushed tone to her. 

 

Pidge looked out towards the guards. His second black clad guard had taken three more steps back it seemed, his eyes a bit wide as he looked at Lance. 

 

"We should get you back to your room," Pidge pleaded. 

 

“If — if you're sure." Lance took one last look at the council room doors. It was his duty to be in there. 

 

Pidge tipped her head at him. "This close I'd swear I was inside of a honeycomb." 

 

This time, Lance just nodded. "I-" He tried. "What if I just stayed for a little longer." 

 

Pidge sighed. "You're being hit hard — “

 

"What is he doing out here?!" The roar from the distance had Lance shivering -- right. It was an Alpha tone. 

 

Lance jerked his head up to look across the hall. 

 

Oh. 

 

Oh, so much of the evening was making sense suddenly. 

 

Keith stood across from them, his eyes wide with surprise and jaw hanging open just slightly. His features quickly morphed to resolve though as he turned his gaze from Lance to the guards. 

 

"You were ordered to keep him safe, in his room. No one was to get near him!" 

 

Lance’s second guard took a step back, though he composed into a straight backed posture quickly. "His Highness wished to reconvene with the council." 

 

"In his condition?" Keith hissed as he rounded on the guard. 

 

Lance realized for the first time — Keith wasn't all that tall. In fact, Lance might actually be taller than him, and the guard was a good head and shoulders taller. Though — it was eerie, nearly all of the men Shiro had been filtering in through his service were like that. Tall, towering men, with wide set shoulders and dark markings. 

 

“He — “

 

"You should have immediately had Antok escort him back to his rooms." Keith cut the guard off. 

 

The hallway went silent.

 

"Keith," Lance spoke up. "You should have let me know," 

 

Keith turned his gaze to Lance. 

 

There was a moment Lance lost his breath — there was fire in him. It consumed Keith's gaze as his eyes alit over Lance's form, shifting from his face to take in all of him. 

 

"I thought you were aware." Keith breathed through gritted teeth. "The scent is a bit hard to miss." His gaze shifted around them. "And it's getting worse." 

 

Lance closed his eyes for a breath, pulling in his full strength. "I'll be fine. They're not usually like this. I'm sure it's just a bad first day."

 

Keith shook his head. Pidge under Lance looked up at him with an expression that Lance could tell she was baffled and the rest of the room all seemed to look awkwardly away. 

 

"Lance," Pidge’s voice held an edge of desperation before she shook her head.

 

Cocking his head, Lance tried to steady himself. Antok behind him placed a hand at his shoulder, holding him up more firmly. 

 

"Shiro," Pidge said as if she tried to jog his memory. 

 

Lance's brow creased. "I've handled this before without him —“

 

"No," Keith said very firmly. “That's not what she means." 

 

Lance looked back down at Pidge, his gaze questioning.  

 

Pidge pressed her lips together for a moment before explaining. "Lance. You and Shiro — you've got heat sickness." 

 

Lance blinked rapidly. There was no way. He cocked his head. "That can’t — that very rarely happens." 

 

"Yes, it has to be triggered." Pidge went on. "And the two of you — you were life bonded without any sort of courtship — Shiro's never had to prove his claim on you." 

 

It slowly started to click with Lance as he looked around the room. His spare guard wouldn't meet his gaze. The Kingsguards were already retreating. Keith — Keith was flushed. 

 

Lance swallowed. He was in heat sickness. And he was no doubt oozing the sent of an Omega — one very dearly wanting to be claimed. It was quite possibly the worst timing imaginable, with Shiro a few hundred thousand miles away. 

 

"It's getting stronger," Antok's deep voice startled Lance. It was probably the first time he'd heard the man speak so close to him. It was deep, a voice held mostly in the man’s chest it seemed. 

 

"Right," Pidge nodded. "You're probably spiraling." She said to Lance before she adjusted him over her shoulder again. 

 

"We need to get him back to his room." Keith charged forward to Lance, a mission clear. 

 

Pidge seemed in agreeance as she nodded. 

 

Lance just whimpered as his insides cramped again. 

 

Without hesitation, Antok scooped Lance up. 

 

Pidge fumbled and scrambled, "Hey woah – !" She pivoted, looking like she was ready to draw her rapier on the much bulkier man. 

 

Keith was there though, "He's a Beta." He nodded to Pidge. “Shiro plans ahead for everything." 

 

Lance was surprised at how easily he just let himself rest back in the massive man’s arms. Most of the guards were long and tall and though broad shoulders and a good frame on them, it was still mostly height. That was not true for Antok. He was a giant of a man, taller than Shiro but also much wider, and Lance just sighed as he rested his cheek on Antok's broad chest. Lance nearly missed the soft pat Antok gave to his shoulder as he followed Keith back down the halls to the Black Paladin Quarters. 

 

* * *

 

Lance was placed back on his feet at the foot of his bed. He thought about holding himself up but in the end he sat at the edge.

 

"I'll be right outside your door, Your Highness," the quiet deep voice was still startling from Antok's helmeted face. 

 

Lance just nodded as he watched the hulking man straighten before turning to leave the room. 

 

"Find another Beta to take watch with you," Keith said to Antok before he could slip through the door. 

 

There was a nod before the door was quietly shut behind them. 

 

"You'll be in quite a bit of pain, but we can at least make you comfortable," Pidge said as she set to work about the room. She retrieved Lance a set of loose clothing before searching around the room for some extra blankets. "Are you big on nesting?" 

 

Lance nodded slowly. His head felt—hot. He was... he didn’t feel well. He wanted to lay down.“I—“ He felt so odd speaking about this, with others in the room with him. "Yeah, I like to nest." He turned away.

 

"You shouldn't be ashamed of this," Keith said. He'd stepped forward from the door. Lance turned a skeptical eye to Keith. 

 

Lance looked up from his place on the bed. "That's a statement someone usually says when something is indeed shameful but you don't want the other person to feel bad."  Lance huffed a sigh. "And it's not working." 

 

Keith took another few steps forward. "Even if we had known when this was coming, the King probably would have still sent Shiro away from you." 

 

Lance nodded. He knew it was probably true as well. The kingdom came first — especially compared to Lance's problems. 

 

There was a moment Lance could see out of the corner of his eyes and his head turned just as Keith took the first step forward. 

 

"I wonder.." Keith's eyebrows were knit. "If he would have actually left, if he'd known." 

 

Just as Lance sucked in a breath, he felt utterly frozen. His eyes were large as they finally took in how close Keith was to him. 

 

Lance’s eyes flashed as Keith raised his hand, his gaze still locked on Lance. The look in his eye seemed — vacant, or maybe wistful. It was a look Lance couldn't place, but as Keith's fingers stretched out and softly touched Lance's skin—

 

Like magic, Lance nearly let out a whine in relief. 

 

Of course it was heat sickness, affection would stifle it. 

 

"You're beautiful." His calloused thumb slid against Lance's jawline. 

 

Lance's eyes shot wide as he looked to Keith. Lance’s mouth dropped slightly ajar, not sure if he was preparing to say any thing or not. 

 

"Keith." Pidge straightened where she was, eyes wide as she watched the interaction, there was a warning tone in her voice. 

 

Lance’s eyes darted away from the smaller Paladin and back to Keith. He took a long, slow gliding step closer to Lance putting them very, very close to one another. 

 

"I wish I could say Shiro doesn't know what he has —“ Keith's voice was quiet. His hand cupped Lance's chin, holding it tipped just a bit, just enough to look at Keith. "But he does. He knows what gift was given to him." Keith's lips pulled up into a sad smile as his thumb slid up, pressing just lightly over Lance's bottom lip and skating against the top. 

 

Lance’s eyes darted across Keith's face, unsure what he should do. He was cornered against the bed. Lance hesitantly reached out to one of the posters of the bed. He wasn't in pain at least, not as Keith touched him. Of course not, he was an Alpha. 

 

"He might actually kill me," Keith said with mirthless laugh. "If I —“ He let his voice trail off. "We've been there for each other for everything — and for you I think he just might —"

 

Keith was so close to Lance, his hands cupping Lance’s face so carefully. Lance couldn't — he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. It was drowsily warm against his chilled skin. Lance felt as if the haze around him lifted just a bit. 

 

"You're so amazing." Keith was leaning in. 

 

Of all the things Lance expected — he never figured Keith's kiss would be gentle. 

 

Lance nearly swooned into it — before he felt entirely sick. 

 

He jerked away, Lance scrambled a crawl back across the bed away, gasping for air, moving as fast as he could to manage over the rumpled mounds of bedding. Keith looked like a deer in the headlights, his hands still reaching out where Lance had pulled away from him. 

 

"Keith!" Pidge snarled as she struck out, her hand latching at Keith's arm and jerking him away. 

 

Startled, Keith fumbled back away a step and wide eyes turned to Pidge. 

 

They exchanged a look Lance couldn't decipher. There was communication there. A code Lance hadn't broken through yet, a relationship of some sort that he hadn't parceled. 

 

Keith gave a nod. "I should go." 

 

Pidge nodded in return, pushing him away. "You should." 

 

Neither of them carried anger in their voices. It was — Lance groaned as the pain started to return. He collapsed back against the bed, sitting at the edge as his hand grasped at the poster, holding himself up. 

 

"Now." Pidge said again. Her voice was laced with the same — worry? Nervousness?

 

Lance still couldn't place it. 

 

Keith stepped backwards, nodding, though his eyes were drifting back to Lance, they flicked from his face to his hands and back. 

 

Abruptly, he turned and strode so fast and hard, the sound his boots gave thudding steps and his head pointed him straight to the door as he yanked it open and slid through, firmly shutting it behind him. 

 

* * *

 

By the next morning, Lance felt sticky. And like a blanket of fog had firmly settled over him. He was constantly cold, shivering under his pile of nested blankets. He felt like his tongue was thick and his mind — dredging. And blurredly waking in his bed, Lance knew he was in heat. His body felt heavy as he pushed himself up. When he pressed the control panel in his room to bring a servant, Antok answered. He opened the door hesitantly as he stepped in. 

 

"Your Highness." The startling baritone had Lance shivering. But he reminded himself the man was a Beta. 

 

"My bed will need changed," Lance said quietly, not looking up from the floor. He felt like a mess, having only pulled on a robe over his soiled night shirt and soft pants. 

 

Antok nodded. "I'll make sure it's done right away." 

 

Lance nodded. 

 

It surprised Lance when Antok took another step forward. "Are you feeling better at all, Your Highness?" 

 

Lance looked up. He hated that Antok never removed his helmet, it disallowed for him to see any sort of expression. 

 

"No." Lance gave a small shake of his head. "Pidge says I won't feel better till-" Lance blushed. "TIll Shiro comes back." 

 

Antok nodded. though it seemed paused as if he wanted to offer Lance something more. "He's been alerted." 

 

Lance nodded. Even so, it was a low chance Shiro would be back any time soon, just the travel time from the Galactic line back to Lance in the Capital City could take days on the massive flag ships. 

 

"Thank you," Lance murmured before he turned. "You're dismissed." He added just to be sure. Some servants tended to linger and with this being one of his first one-on-ones with Antok, he wasn't sure. Lance just knew he wanted to be left alone. 

 

Antok gave a deep bow. "Let me know if there is anything else, Your Highness." 

 

Lance gave one last nod before Antok turned to leave. 

 

Padding back to their bathroom, Lance turned the knob to start a bath. He stripped quickly, feeling disgusting as the slick from that morning still rolled down his thighs. And the pressure of his headache was starting to weigh on him. The ache throughout him was nothing he'd ever imagined, Usually he was tired, but he truly thought at that moment he may spend the whole of his heat in bed if he could manage it.

 

 

* * *

 

"Lance--" 

 

Blurringly Lance hummed at first before he managed to crack an eye. Whatever time of day it was it didn't matter he felt — absolutely awful. His skin was so sweaty he felt like he was sticking to everything. He'd pulled on a shirt the night before, hoping to keep some semblance of a civilized individual he knew he was under it all, only to tear it off later. 

 

And then—he could barely turn his head with out feeling the twinge of his swollen primary glands up under his jaw. In the last could of days they had become red and angry and Lance hated it. It made even the smallest brush of a pillow ache. 

 

He shifted, feeling the — oh that gross feeling of slick still at his thighs and ass. But also as he moved there was —

 

"Nahhhh," Lance groaned as his insides all clenched and his face twisted in agony. 

 

Pidge's hand felt hot at his shoulder and then carefully at his forehead. 

 

"Lance," She tried again to him. "I have something that will help." 

 

Lance raise his head from his sweat drenched pillow to look at her. Saying he was miserable was an understatement. It had been three days and he'd progressively spent more and more time in bed. He barely moved, he tried to sleep but it was — it all hurt so bad. It's like there was a tight clenching hand struck right through him and every movement Lance made, every time he moved himself that grip just tightened and pain shot out through him, rendering him limp and helpless. 

 

Pidge brushed her hand through his hair. She was a Beta, she was trying to help, but it — it wasn't enough anymore. 

 

Lance blinked at her before he croaked. "What...?" 

 

Her catlike golden eyes sparked in the dark room once Lance gave her his full attention she smiled. "I got a message out." She was quite proud of herself. 

 

Lance swallowed thickly. "You talked to him?" He knew he sounded winded, but Lance didn't bother trying to sound sweet or melodic at that moment. 

 

Pidge shook her head. "Private line." 

 

That caught Lance attention. 'What--" Lance pushed up onto his elbow. "What did he say?" 

 

There was a sly smile. "I need your help to find something. He said it might help you."

Lance nodded, his mind screamed, anything. 

 

"He says there's a cloak he's worn before — it’s like looks magic apparently?" Pidge scrunched her nose at that. "He didn't say it like that, He said it was a cloak that looked like infinite space." 

 

Lance shot up on the bed. "The cloak he —“ Lance stalled, unsure. "There's one that —“ He shook his head. "He life-bonded to me with it on." 

 

Pidge was scrambling up as well, her eyes alight. "That must be the one." 

 

Lance nodded. "It's the only one I've ever seen like it." 

 

Turning to the wardrobe, Pidge threw the doors open. "Then where would he have put it?" 

 

Lance shook his head, "I know where it is. It's not there, Pidge." 

 

Carefully she closed the doors and turned to him. "Where?" 

 

Crawling away from the edge of the bed, Lance groaned again but carefully he placed one foot on the soft carpet, followed by another before he sunk to his knees on the floor. 

 

"Lance!" Pidge jumped forward. 

 

Lance held up his hand though as he bent and peering under the bed, he reached down into the darkness. 

 

"The box is pretty heavy, could you help me?" Lance asked. 

 

Pidge quickly dropped to her knees next to him and did the same, reaching in under the darkness of the bed. 

 

Tugging and pulling together, they pulled forth the narrow but long, thin box, sliding it out from under the bed to lay alongside the bed itself. 

 

The ornate silver latches popped easily under Lance's hands before he carefully opened the box. 

 

"Woah," Pidge let slip as her eyes fell over the long black and gold claymore, laying in a sea of infinite space. 

 

Lance nodded. Carefully he reached in to take the sword. It was heavy. A weapon he knew he could never accurately wield. The golden ornate decors of the hilt and handle swirled like the wind, though with the sharp biting edge of the wind as well, It twisted up and around to cap off the top of the sword. 

 

"It's the Black Paladin's claymore," Lance explained. "He hasn't told me it's name so I couldn't give it to you." He carefully placed the sword on the floor. "I know we've all got one, different weapons. but — they’re mostly held at the Temple. Our Bayards are more effective for the Lions after all." 

 

"How did Shiro get to keep his then?" Pidge's brow creased as her gaze jumped from the sword and back again to Lance. 

 

With a shake of his head, Lance frowned. "I don't know. My father probably had it before Shiro." 

 

Lance was already reaching into the box though and pulled out the massive long cloak, of eons and eons of galaxies all shimmering in brilliant blacks. 

 

Lance smiled as he held it."This was just Shiro's though." 

 

As his fingers touched it, Lance for the first time since his heat had started felt like he could breath. Without a moment more he lifted the cloak to his face and deeply inhaled — it was — Lance's eyes nearly rolled back into their sockets. It was Alpha and Shiro, Lance could nearly hear Shiro's Alpha call in his ears. He could nearly feel him there — it was all him. 

 

When Lance let the cloak drop, pooling over his lap, he looked up to Pidge. 

 

She looked hopeful as she asked. "Better?" 

 

Lance smiled, "Yes, this will make it better." He reached forward to pull his smaller friend into a hug. "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

 

He felt worse. Fevered and drenched in sweat and the slickness constantly between his legs. Lance didn't even care as Pidge entered the room, sliding through the door and into their entryway. Lance didn't move from his drenched bed sheets, though he was sure just beyond the door was Antok, standing guard. 

 

"Lance," Pidge came through the archway of the bedroom. 

 

For the first time, Lance noticed the small tray she carried. It wasn't much, tea and some crackers with cheese and little thin slices of meat. 

 

Lance clutched the cloak clenched between his hand  closer, pulling it to his nose. He breathed in, engulfing his senses in — a false sense of  _ him. _ It helped, like ghosts helped ease the suffering of grief. 

 

It was just a lingering, like Shiro was just out of Lance’s reach. Like he was standing just beyond a doorway or in the next room. It was a small comfort, but it was all Lance had and he pulled the his shroud of cosmos up closer to his face, covering his mouth and nose, so it was all he could smell, giving himself no other option. 

 

"The servants downstairs said you love lavender and white chocolate tea." Pidge said as she carefully set the tray down on the nightstand. "I also brought up some biscuits for it and they insisted on a bit of cheese and meats for protein." She looked up to Lance. 

 

Lance gave a slow nod. pulling the cloak aways from his face. He tried his very best at a grateful smile as he said, "Thank you, Pidge." 

 

He felt awful. His stomach harbored absolutely no appetite in sight. But Lance still — he was a prince. And he'd been brought a gracious gift. He was smart enough to see a small penance of friendship, so he pushed himself up on his pillows and reached over for the tea. His skin felt chilled and yet he couldn't bear the sheets too rough across his shoulders. 

 

Turning his head, he hissed. 

 

Right. His glands. They were swollen quite painfully and any small movement at his head had the red inflamed primary glands at his jaw line pulsing with pain. 

 

"Here," Pidge seemed to rush forward as she picked up the tea and saucer. 

 

So Lance didn't have to reach over for it she leaned in over the bed to hand it to him. 

 

Lance was too — tired, worn, dizzy, hot, freezing, starving, nauseous, everything to question the action as he reached forward to take the tea. 

 

As he raised it to his lips for a sip, he let the warm liquid slide though him. It was smooth and faintly floral but sweet in a delicate way only white chocolate could be. He did still enjoy this, he decided. 

 

It wasn't till Lance finally lowered the cup back to the saucer that he noticed Pidge as she still stood a bit awkward and fidgety at the side of his bed. 

 

Lance leaned back into the pillows though, letting his head tip back and in a position that didn't hurt his swollen glands at least. 

 

Next to him, he heard the scrape of a chair and looked over just as Pidge slid a chair near the bed. In a way that suggested Pidge wasn't sure how to go about making friends, she sat down, looking down at her hands. 

 

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a conversationalist at the moment," Lance admitted. He could even point out the breathy quality in his own voice. "Pardon me, if I don't quite manage to be cordial." 

 

Pidge didn't look up. "That's okay." She said, quiet. 

 

Lance couldn't glean anything from her voice so instead he leaned back forward to take another sip of tea. 

 

"I do appreciate this, you know," Lance said suddenly. "You don't have to take care of me. Antok would do it as well, if you didn't."

 

Pidge didn't say anything to that. 

 

“I think he’s really fond of you?” Pidge said after a moment. 

 

“Antok?” Lance asked. 

 

Pidge nodded. 

 

“Ah, well—“ Lance thought about it for a moment. “I’m pretty sure he’s been around since Shiro got here — I just, it’s not till now he’s really become my guard.” 

 

“He’s really good at it,” Pidge’s voice seemed distant.

 

Lance took another drink of tea. "He might not have gotten the perfect tea though. Your consideration really does mean quite a bit to me." 

 

"I'm sure he would have gotten you whatever you liked, Your Highness." Pidge said in a quiet tone. 

 

Lance set the tea back on the saucer. "Yeah. But that's because I'm a prince," He looked up over at her before giving a half shrug. "I feel like you did it just because I needed it." 

 

"You know," Pidge started. "I think that's the part of you that annoys me." 

 

Lance looked over. "Oh," was all he could think past the fevered haze. 

 

"I don't know how Shiro doesn't mind it all," Pidge kept speaking, she drew her leg up into the chair, hugging it close to her. "All of the rules. They're never even spelled out. And yet he's followed every single one of them." 

 

Lance pursed his lips, his head lifting off the pillow as he looked over to his companion. “You'll — you’ll fit in." He assured her. "I promise, it gets easier." 

 

Pidge's cheek rested against her knee. "Does it?" She sounded almost defeated. "I'm here because of Shiro." She admitted a moment later. 

 

Lance couldn't say it was a fact that had been lost on him. He simply nodded to her. He knew. Most of the palace knew. 

 

When Pidge finally looked up, Lance could see as her eyes focused on him. 

 

"I hate your family." 

 

Lance felt like he couldn't breath. 

 

"So much," Pidge's voice cracked and she turned her face into her knee again. 

 

Still, Lance looked back away to his tea. He heard as Pidge sniffed and rubbed her hand over her eyes. 

 

"You're really nice to me," Pidge squeaked out. 

 

Unsure, of how he should keep going he figured that was probably his best route for a crying Pidge. 

 

"Do you want to split a biscuit with me?" Lance asked as he pushed himself to sit up. 

 

Pidge raised her head, her eyes red as she looked at him. "You don't want a biscuit." 

 

Lance looked over at the small plate, He could feel his gag reflex already there, just laughing at him. He blandly looked back at Pidge and shook his head. "No, but I want to split one with you." 

 

Pidge gave a small smile before pushing off the chair. "Okay." She said like it made sense. 

 

She stepped up the the small plate and snapped one of the small biscuits in half before she clambered up the side of the tall bed to Lance. 

 

Lance took the biscuit from her as he looked it over. 

 

"Hey Lance," 

 

"Hmmm," Lance answered. 

 

"I'm sorry I was mean to you." 

 

Lance looked up. before managing a smile. "I'm sure you'll go back to being a snarky asshole once I can leave this room." 

 

"Yeah." Pidge admitted. "But I don't mean all of it." 

 

"I know." Lance said before popping the biscuit in his mouth. He did not want the biscuit, but he wanted friendship. And he could suck on a biscuit if it meant that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance heard the door open but he didn't move from where he was, he ached. Every part of him felt miserable. His eyes hurt from the light, his insides felt pulled into tight strung knots. He'd already thrown up that morning. 

 

His neck — oh god his neck--at either side of his jaw, his primary glands throbbed with every heartbeat. They'd swelled before, for heats, but not like this. It was like wearing a thick choking collar around his neck, he could barely turn his head without a twinge of aching pain sent through him. He knew they were red and inflamed but he just concentrating on not moving. The less he moved the less everything hurt. 

 

Lance had yet to even retrieve clothes. His shower that morning had taken every ounce of energy and after he’d just lay in the middle of his vast bed, curled up with the heavy galaxy dark cloak of his mate pulled around him. It smelled like Shiro just enough to keep Lance from whining continually and yet not enough. Lance pawed against it, nearly swearing he'd have it threadbare by the time his Black Paladin returned. 

 

It was Pidge, Lance recognized as she—

 

Lance blinked as she rushed at the bed, her fingers going to his shoulders as she gave him a smile and helped him up to sit up, fully pulling him from his dozing state. 

 

"What?" Lance shook his head, trying to fully wake up

 

She breathed as her gaze locked with Lance's. 

 

"He's back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to check out more Two Shadows Went or any of my other Writing feel free to [Look Over Here](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/tagged/writing)
> 
> You can [Bother me here on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/PitchGold) or [Stalk me here on My Tumblr](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com)
> 
> My sweet, bright, beautiful Beta: [Cosmosclouds](http://cosmosclouds.tumblr.com/)


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Art Foundry**
> 
> Because art makes everything better! If you’ve made some art or know some I haven’t got listed, please do let me know! 
> 
> **My Own** [Cute Quick Sketch](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/160718993184/shance-sketch-request-for-mettaverse-im) , ["You made him my family.”](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/post/161503475185/shance-fluff-week-day-3-homefamily-you-made-him), [The Spicy One :3 ](http://wickedpitch.tumblr.com/post/160718663454/shance-from-two-shadows-went-an-altean-au-fanfic)
> 
> **Other Amazing Artists!**["So Silky” Comic by Amorraborealis](https://amorraborealis.tumblr.com/post/162501098153/shiros-outfit-is-not-proper-for-the-setting-of?is_highlighted_post=1) , [Alrean Lance by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/162954398180), [Altean Shiro by Foxfaith](https://foxfaith.tumblr.com/image/163412989885), [Shiro and Lance by Eliblor10](http://eliblor10.tumblr.com/post/162766200979/obsessed-with-pitchgold-s-two-shadows-went-so-i), [Shiro and Lance by Vero](https://mobile.twitter.com/roseraiess/status/976300378114281473)

In his daze, he almost missed it. He distantly could remembered Pidge telling him to bathe and helping him crawl back into bed, making him comfortable in the nest of fresh new pillows and blankets, and most importantly the deep black cloak Lance tugged around himself, biting the horrid pressure and pain back just enough he could manage to sleep again.

 

A warm hand at his waist, trailing upwards was what brought Lance out of his doze.

 

He breathed in all at once as he turned, his body jerking towards the contact.

 

"Lovely," Shiro sat at the edge of the bed, reaching out to Lance. He was still in a black flight suit. His gaze softened over Lance.

 

Eyes wide, Lance shot forward on the bed and wrapped his arms around Shiro.

 

Moving into the embrace, Shiro squeezed Lance to him, pulling him from under the covers and across him.

 

Lance finally sighed and his senses were filled with the spicy scent of his Alpha.

 

When Shiro finally released Lance, and let him lay back against the piled up pillows, his hands still ran over Lance's skin, adoringly. "It wasn't possible for me to return sooner, " Shiro said in his usual tone. "I'm so sorry, you’ve — you’ve had to suffer."

 

Lance shook his head. His skin felt hot but as Shiro's hands ran over him — it was like he was smoothing away the persistent fatigue, the clenching pain in his abdomen receding.

 

"You didn't," Lance looked up. "I didn't make you — I didn't pull you away from something I shouldn't have?" Lance checked.

 

Shiro's eyes widened just a fraction before he shook his head, "No!" He jumped to explain. "Absolutely not! I—“ He stopped. His jaw jumped as he looked down at the covers. "Pidge secured a private line with me, and told me what had happened." He shook his head. "This is horrible timing for you to go through this."

 

Leaning back more into the pillows, Lance lifted his hand to pet across his partner’s hair. "She'd told me you'd talked to her."

 

Shiro's hand brushed over the cloak. "I'm glad you remembered where to find it."

 

Lance smiled. "You looked nearly otherworldly in this, it was the first time I'd really seen you beyond in passing. It made quite an impression on me."

 

Shiro tipped his head at him, looking at him sidelong. "I wanted to be here sooner."

 

Blinking, Lance tried not to let his own desires cloud his judgement. "You're the Black Paladin first. I understand that."

 

Shiro pushed up a bit more on the bed, sitting more firmly as he reached down, to remove his boots. He wore an expression Lance couldn't quite parcel out.

 

Narrowing his gaze, Lance tried to consider. "Shiro — You told me you didn't leave from anything critical."

 

"I didn't lie," Shiro said in a seemingly forced neutral tone.

 

Lance still considered. “Than — the fleet has returned. My sister? Hunk? They're all back?"

 

Shiro shook his head. "No."

 

This time, Lance couldn't help his own sly smile. "Then how in the world — ?”

 

With his boots and socks off, Shiro was already crawling up on the bed, he'd managed remove a majority of the armor as well, letting each black parcel fall to the floor. He reached for Lance, kissing at his lips fervently.

 

It wasn't till Lance raised his hand, his palm touching Shiro's chest that Shiro backed up enough to look at him.

 

"Shiro," Lance pressed, his brow raising.

 

Shiro took a breath. "I'm... as far as the records state, still in space."

 

He said it so levelly, so calm, Lance nearly didn't catch all the implications.

 

"What?" Lance blinked rapidly.

 

"The Black Paladin is still with in Altea's outer orbit." Shiro stated as if it was fact. "The Black Lion is there, as well as my fleet."

 

Lance narrowed his gaze, “You — didn't?"

 

Shiro breathed out carefully. "One star-cruiser jettisoning back to the capital hangers — wasn't really all that noteworthy. There’s been several going back and forth to relay information and things anyway."

 

He was smiling but at the same time, Lance shook his head. "You should have stayed in space." He was already huffing out his first laugh. "I'm going to survive I'm sure, Shiro." He was already smiling though at Shiro. "I'm fine."

 

Shiro was already crawling over him, a smile slightly ticking  up on his features. "You're not." He breathed, his face inching closer to Lance's. "You're in heat sickness, and I can help." Shiro's smile dropped as his hand brushed at Lance's cheek. "You're burning up. It's has to be getting bad."

 

Lance let his head rest back on the pillows. "Why is this happening?" He groaned. "I've always — my heats are easy. I've never had this and the scent – Keith had all the Alpha Guards removed from around me. It's never been like this!" Lance frowned unhappily.

 

There was a breath before Shiro spoke. "It's — it's the bond."  His jaw tightened. "We didn't bond naturally. This was going to happen no matter what we did." Shiro sat back a bit, his eyes weighing heavier on Lance.”I just expected to be here when it did happen, I expected I’d be able to help you and it’d never get this bad.”

 

Not knowing what else to do, Lance ran his hand over his Alpha's arm, sliding his fingers up over the Galran hand, tracing up to the dark shirt Shiro was wearing.

 

"How--" Lance frowned. "How do I feel better?" He knew his voice was quiet. But his eyes still slid up to look at Shiro — he was aiming for hopeful, but he knew his gaze flickered with fear.

 

Shiro was already shaking his head. "It won't ever be like that first time again." He breathed out a growl. "I promised you, I'd never do that to you again."

 

Lance — with an nod of his head, tried to trust.

 

"I just have to —“ Shiro leaned in, his hand adjusting and fingers sliding under Lance's neck pulling him up from the pillows.

 

"I — will never hurt you again," Shiro's voice was so low it vibrated through Lance as he spoke against his throat, his lips carefully trailing upwards.

 

Lance gave a whimper, his hands coming up though, shaking as he tried to steady himself against Shiro.

 

"I just need to make you remember," Shiro spoke again, "make the mark remember — that you're safe--"

 

Lance jolted as Shiro's hot breath was over his mark. He gasped and his fingers clutched  at Shiro.

 

"And mine,"

 

Shiro dropped his mouth over the mark, hitting it in an open mouthed kiss, and Lance — melted as his eyes rolled back and he — let himself fall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The more Shiro's hands smoothed across Lance's skin the more the fuzz receded from Lance's world. By the time he was pressed up against Shiro he could finally let out a long breath in relief. Blinking several times, so much was finally catching up to him. He’d spent days in that bed, and no telling how long he’d been there even that very day. The birds were chirping outside and light filtered in from the curtains at the side of their bed, so it wasn’t exactly early.

 

"You've been so good waiting for me," Shiro's deep voice nearly vibrated through Lance.

 

Lance cracked a smile. "I didn't have much of a choice."

 

It was so pleasantly warm finally. Finally Lance wasn't shivering in a cold sweat. He wasn't clawing at the lingering scent from the cloak around him. Shiro was there and as he propped himself up over Lance he filled his senses.

 

Shiro was inspecting him it seemed and with a wince of his own, his hand came up to turn Lance's chin first one way, then the other.

 

Lance gasped at the movement. His swollen glands were sore.

 

"Oohhh," Shiro made a sound, making it clear he knew it hurt. "Those look so sore."

 

Looking up at him, Lance wasn't sure what else to do but give a tiny nod. They hurt so bad for so long.

 

"Don't worry," Shiro murmured kissing at Lance's jaw. "We'll get them to go down, you'll be alright."

 

Lance shuddered at the contact, even so small, his hands at Shiro's arms tightened. He very much wanted that to be true.

 

"Turn over?" Shiro asked gently at Lance's ear.

 

Lance gave a nod and twisted around.

 

Gently Shiro pulled the cloak out from around Lance, setting it at the footstool at the end of the bed.

 

"Good boy." Shiro commented as he dipped in to kiss the peak of Lance's shoulder.

 

A broad hand was already smoothing up Lance's side and up over—

 

Lance closed his eyes as he felt Shiro splaying his hand over the base of Lance’s spine., This time though his hips were snapping back though this time. Shiro was already crawling over him. His hot breath was tickling at Lance’s bare shoulders. He pressed in more as Lance keened into the touch.

 

The metallic hum of Shiros hand striking out to the headboard brought Lance’s head up. It was nearly a hollow sound. His eyes leveled on the headboard as Shiro pressed his weight in over Lance.

 

It felt — good, the weight felt amazing actually.

 

Lance looked back. Still in that flight suit, it couldn’t hide much as Shiro leaned in to Lance.

 

Biting his lip, and pulling a pillow to prop up on underneath him, Lance was more than pleased to have his Alpha blanket over him.

 

As Shiro curled his head in to nuzzle at his neck, that deep booming sound was already shuddering out of him. Lance closed his eyes at it. It had been nearly terrifying before, but this time — it sang through him so delightfully.

 

"You’re eager," Shiro’s voice was rough and harsh at Lance’s throat.

 

His hand was sliding down through the slick already running down Lance’s thighs.

 

Smiling, Lance didn’t open his eyes as he raised an eyebrow. "I’m eager?" He let a small laugh echo from his lips.

 

He could feel Shiro tighten over him, there was push of his groin forward in against Lance’s ass again.

 

"So speaks the man that flew hundreds of miles back from space to get to me." Lance purred. It was a sound he didn’t know he could make but it sounded so pleasant.

 

Shiro’s hand slid through the slick again only this time with intent as he pressed a few more kiss marks into Lance’s throat. When his fingers parted through Lance’s ass and slid up and in—

 

Lance’s breath hitched and his back arched up into the feeling. His hips jutted back to sink Shiro’s fingers in a few inches deeper. The wet sound of it so amazing as the feeling of finally being full shot like lightening through Lance’s veins.

 

Maybe eager was the right word, because Lance didn’t know how to hold still. His toes curled an he pushed up onto his elbows, leaning back to start prying at what ever was left of Shiro’s armor.

 

That seemed to startle the man over him, and he froze, eyes on Lance.

 

He’d been clothed before, Lance remembered. Shiro had always been clothed when they were intimate before.

 

So with a level gaze, Lance pried first one clip, then another free at Shiro’s throat.

 

Stormy eyes watched him carefully as Lance did his best to crane back and with one arm used to support him and the other curled back, his long fingers worked at each clasp.

 

Was he still poking at a storm?

 

Lance wasn’t sure.

 

The fingers inside of him, though Shiro’s gaze on him didn’t move, curled. Grey eyes narrowed before they slid back out and in again. The action had Lance keening, his hand fisted in Shiro’s shirt as he tried to keep on task.

 

Crashing into Lance then, the deep chuffed Alpha call was nearly earth quaking as Shiro wrapped his metal hand around Lance’s neck and pressed bodily into Lance, slamming them into a kiss.

 

Yanking his fingers from Lance, with a shivering yelp from the prince, Shiro was yanking his shirt off, clawing at getting the tight fitted uniform over his head.

 

Lance’s smile widened as he scrambled to turn over, and his fingers met smooth skin for once as he reached up. Shiro was already leaning back over him, naked shoulders hunched over him. His metal hand still yanked at the closure of his pants till Lance was helping too, pushing them away from Shiro’s hips.

 

"Told ya," Lance gasped and giggled devilishly.

 

Finally, Shiro parted long enough to pull the last shreds of clothing off.

 

“I'm not the only eager one," Lance still smiled, his fingers going to Shiro’s face.

 

Shiro was already falling back to him, his own smile evident as, this time naked, he crawled back over the bed to join Lance. He kissed at Lance’s lips slower than before.

 

“I've been very patient, I think," Shiro’s voice was deep and gravelly.

 

"You’re never patient," Lance huffed out a laugh.

 

Pushing his thighs apart, Shiro was seated on the bed as his hands ran over Lance’s legs.

 

"I disagree," Shiro hummed. "I waited for you to come to me."

 

Lance giggled, leaning back on his elbows.

 

"And patience—" Shiro was leaning in again, his hands gripping Lance’s thighs tightly. “yields focus."

 

He yanked Lance to him, and with a groan they both felt as Shiro thrust up against Lance’s slick ass.

 

Lance’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head. That was good. That was very, very good.

 

His fingers scrambled forward and he pushed up on the bed, he felt like he was sticky again. Like every pore he had was oozing again, but it was different this time. It wasn’t nearly as stifling. Shiro’s heat on him was welcome and Lance arched and bucked into his hot touch.

 

As Lance’s fingertips brushed down Shiro's torso, he felt that stormy gaze on him again. This time there was no warning as Shiro pulled Lance forward, gathering him up as for the first time, he slid his mouth over the swollen bond mark.

 

Lance bit his lip, it was painful—and yet he wanted it. His fingers slid down the slide of Shiro’s abdomen to finally reach between both of their legs.

 

His face turned in, Lance wanted to experience every bit of Shiro firsthand as he nuzzled into Shiro’s neck, and his fingers grasped the swollen cock that seemed to swell even more at his touch. He lifted his hips just as he pushed the tip to his entrance—and Lance’s eyes did roll back this time and his mouth opened in a wordless cry.

 

So good, sooo soooooo soooo good. Lance felt like he was a mess before he even got a few inches pushed in. It was so snug—oh god, Shiro fit so perfectly.

 

The hot hand cupping of Lance’s own swollen cock had him yelping out a cry as his head dropped forward to Shiro’s shoulder.

 

It was hot and messy and Lance loved it.

 

Shiro lapped at the bond mark, giving his own deep groan, though it was restrained. It sent little pings through Lance. Once he was confident the connection would hold—Shiro thrust in before Lance could even had his hands skittering back up.

 

Lance gave his own groan then and Shiro's hand around his slick cock squeezed. He was holding so suffocatingly tight, and Lance mewled, wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck.

 

They thrust together again and again.

 

The pants across his neck and shoulders felt so close, Lance let his eyes flick closed as his hips moved and he felt like them rocking together consumed his whole world. He kissed at the side of Shiro's face, he pawed at his hair. He was getting sweaty too, and Lance’s long fingers started to slip on his skin.

 

It was so nice though. Lance loved every second. He adored ever messy kiss and every squeeze of his erection as Shiro thrust in harder.

 

When Lance convulsed and shivered through a contraction it felt natural for the first time and with more powerful hard thrusts into him, Lance nearly keened.

 

It couldn't be over, he loved the feeling too much. The slick slide into him, filling him was too perfect. Shiro's hair was sweaty as Lance grasped at the back of his head. They were both panting and desperate, trying to hold on to one another as they hurled closer to completion.

 

That's when Lance felt it, the catch and the — Shiro face warped as he crashed his mouth over Lance’s and they—sealed.

  


 

* * *

  
  
  
  


They were a mess. Lance lazily lay across the bed, his head back on a pillow Shiro had placed there, as he looked up at the black starry fabric of the canopy overhead.

 

His limbs had just been thrown out around him.

 

He felt oversensitive as Shiro leaned down from where he was seated — still held captive between Lance’s thighs — though he doubted Shiro would complain about it. When his mouth touched down on Lance’s chest, a jolt shot through him.

 

Shiro must have noticed, because he craned his head up as Lance looked down.

 

Lance wiggled his hips. He was very much still stuck — left with no choice but to hang off of Shiro’s knot.

 

Shiro smiled devilishly, and squeezed his hand again, his fingers still clutching tight onto Lance’s ripe erection.

 

Lances body arched and he curled.

 

"Cruel," Lance grit out as he fell back to the bed.

 

The curiosity shone in Shiro’s eyes like he was a cat tipping his head at a mouse before he lazily let his hand stroke at Lance’s still very hard dick.

 

Lance’s mouth fell open and his back arched. "So, so cruel." He managed.

 

Shiro was already chuckling. "Not true," he said.

 

Lance shook his head. "It is," Lance nearly wanted to laugh, but oddly felt like that would be calling forfeit in their little game. "You always draw it out with me."

 

"I wouldn’t term that as cruel." Shiro kissed again over Lance’s chest, working his way down as his shoulders hunched.

 

Lance blinked and tried to test his hips again. If he could move again, maybe he could fuck himself till he came.

 

But Shiro’s hand was already squeezing again, and this time it was intentional as he pinched at the base and Lance was left to hopelessly squirm in the bed.

 

"I like to draw it out in you," Shiro raised his head.

 

“I've noticed." Lance huffed. “It's cruel."

 

Shiro’s smile was nearly that of a cheshire cat. "My darling, you haven’t seen me cruel yet."

 

Looking down at him, Lance huffed again—

 

And as Shiro started to move, and shift, Lance scrambled to push up and loop his arms around Shiro’s neck.

 

The connection wasn’t broken as Shiro gathered Lance up into his arms and stood from the bed. He looked — cocky. Lance scrunched his nose at his mate.

 

“Let's go get cleaned up," Shiro’s eyes were on nothing but Lance as he pushed off towards the bathroom.

 

With a lazy flop of his arms over Shiro’s shoulders, Lance conceded. He was pretty sure Shiro just wanted get him sticky again but there wasn’t much Lance could do about it. At that point he’d probably do what ever Shiro asked as long as he didn't have to go through the sickness again.

 

Lost in thought and those narrow stormy eyes, Lance was surprised when water splashed over his back.

 

Shiro was nothing more than smiles and chuckles as Lance leaned away from the shower spray and closer into the partner holding him up. He kissed at Lance’s cheek and then farther down to his neck and then over the mark again.

 

"You’re also greedy," Lance pointed out, though he was already giving his own sly smile.

 

Shiro hummed. "I will let you have that one. I am very greedy. I want it all, and I don’t wish to compromise in order to get it."

 

After Shiro took another step into the shower spray, Lance hummed as the water warmed over his skin. His body sagged over his mate, letting himself rest over his shoulders.

 

"Let me show you mercy?" Shiro’s voice was quiet for once as he spoke close to Lance, his hand shifting where it held at Lance’s thigh.

 

Turning to look at him again, Lance realized he wasn’t smiling as he asked. "That doesn’t seem like you."

 

Shiro still had the easy smile though as he snuck a kiss from Lance’s prone lips again. It was over quickly before his half lidded eyes, still settled on Lance, and trailed over his face. "I want to."

 

Lance gave his own unsure smile for a short second. "I won’t say no."

 

"Would you say no to my mercy ever?" Shiro cocked his head. "Even if I told you it came at a price?"

 

Lance blinked. The conversation was turning again. And it seemed — he wasn’t sure Shiro had ever spoken like that with him before. A lot was different this time. He was so full of smiles as he looked at Lance, his eyes were narrow out of relaxation instead of his normal critical gaze.

 

"Shiro," the name slipped through Lance’s lips before he could help it.

 

The smile wasn’t fading, but his gaze on Lance only seemed to pin him down. "Just say you want it, and I’ll never hold it back from you."

 

"You’ve never been cruel to me," Lance said suddenly. "Not really."

 

Shiro’s smile broke and it was nearly—it was nearly sad. "You’ve never given me a reason."

 

"Than why offer me mercy now?" Lance bit back, his own mirth seemed lost in the storm he could see brewing in bottomless grey eyes.

 

Shiro seemed like — the way he moved his head, there was something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t saying it.

 

Lance wanted to hear it, so he stayed quiet even as Shiro swallowed and his mouth fall open again, but no words came.

 

"This is when I can offer it." Shiro’s voice was quiet. "Right now." He swallowed again. "It will be too late within —" his voice caught. “I’ve — I have to ask for it now so I can move forward, so I can decide what to do."

 

Blinking Lance gave a slow nod. What did that — what did that mean?

 

This was different. What they’d just done was different. It was all crashing over Lance as he watched Shiro.

 

Suddenly then — Lance gasped as his body spasmed, and he felt it, Shiro would slip from him, his knot had deflated enough.

 

Lance grasped forward as he gasped at the feeling again.

 

"Tell me," Shiro said, still holding Lance up, fingers fiercely holding at his legs still.

 

Pressed forehead to forehead, Lance gave another slow nod. "I want it." He whispered.

 

Shiro was breaking into a smile then, and their lips crashed together as he set Lance on his feet, his cock slipping entirely from him, before Shiro had Lance stepping back.

 

The stone walls of the shower had a ledge, ringing the room at about waist level and Shiro had Lance hefted back up, to set him to sit just against it.

 

Lance had to move his hands down to balance as Shiro's hold on him slackened.

 

"You do terrible things to me," Shiro was chuckling again as he pressed in another kiss to Lance’s lips.

 

"Good," Lance huffed. "I was nearly starting to think I had no affect at all."

 

The laugh he received was a deep rumble.

 

Lance nearly found it hard to breath as Shiro shifted down again and this time settled on his knees.

 

He ran a hand down his thighs. "My love," Shiro pushed Lance’s thigh up to meet his mouth, and pressed in a sloppy kiss. "You’ve nearly broken an empire."

 

Lance cracked his own smile finally again. "Is that your way of telling me I’ve distracted you?"

 

The way Shiro’s eyes shifted as he looked at Lance set lightening through Lance’s veins. "You’ve no idea."

 

Setting Lance’s thigh over his shoulder, Shiro brought both of their attention back to the center of Lance.

 

His cock was still a cherry red, the finely shaped tip jutting out towards his stomach.

 

A couple more kisses leading up Lance’s legs were pressed in, before Shiro was at the junction and Lance could barely breath. Shiro know what he was doing as he huffed out another breath, this time right over Lance’s very sensitive member. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as Lance’s hand managed, trembling to pet forward to Shiro's hair.

 

This was really happening. Lance wasn't sure how or why but this was really—

 

"Nuhhhh,” Lance had a hard time holding still, and keeping his balance as Shiro pressed in a soft kiss to the tip. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,"

 

"Careful there, pet," Shiro cocked the side of his smile. ”I might like it a bit too much when you call me that."

 

Lance slapped his hand over his mouth. His fingers clenched at the feel of each word on his dick. It as so good. Lance couldn’t even imagine—

 

As Shiro’s mouth opened this time over his dick—Lance nearly sagged and oozed out over the shower floor.

 

Shiro kissed again to the head. "Good boy." He hummed. "You’re being so good for me." His hands smoothed down Lance’s legs again. ‘You’ve been so good for me ever since I got here,"

 

And the way his eyes flicked up — Lance doubted he was talking about just that night.

 

"You’ve been perfect for me." Shiro said then.

 

It was right before he tipped one finger up over Lance’s cock and slid it down from the head, and just at the base — he used it to pull Lance’s cock away from his abdomen and Shiro sunk his mouth over it.

 

Both of Lance’s hands shot to the stone edge as he tried to keep his hips from bucking up into that—oh god, it felt amazing, Shiro’s mouth was warm and wet and perfect and his tongue moved over — the— the — oh god he pressed his tongue in over the slit — Lance’s mouth dropped open as he tried to stay some semblance of together.

 

"Yes," Lance gasped and his body snapped forward.

 

Shiro bobbed his head before pulling off. He shifted up just long enough to dive one hand into Lance’s hair and press a kiss up into his waiting lips.

 

"You’re close?" Shiro’s voice was back to that thick, gravelly tone.

 

Lance couldn’t do anything but look at Shiro pleadingly, a weak nod as his fingers grasped at Shiro’s hair. He was so close. He’d been close as Shiro had fucked him. He’d been close after and he was on the fucking god damn edge now!

 

Shiro looked nearly giddy as he pressed in another kiss before taking Lance completely back into his mouth, sinking down to the root before pulling off again.

 

It was Lance this time that insistently tugged at Shiro’s face, bringing him in for another sloppy open mouthed kiss.

 

"I can push you over the edge, babe,” Shiro whispered as he broke the kiss, forehead to forehead, both of them panting again.

 

"Do it," Lance pleaded.

 

And with that, Shiro sank again and this time he didn’t pull off—at least not till—

 

Lance gave a cry as his body arched again and stars exploded over his vision and Shiro’s tongue lapped up the evidence as it spurted from his slit and Lance could barely stop shaking as Shiro took him in again and the warm wet feeling of his mouth was so perfect.

 

When it was done, Lance rest back against the shower, the spray of the water seemed to melt over him as Shiro still licked and lapped up any leftovers.

 

Lance blinked against the spray of water as his hand thread through the wet strands of his mates hair.

 

Was that mercy?

 

...Lance wasn’t sure it felt like it.

  


* * *

  
  
  


Lance slipped out of the room first. Antok stood, though he didn't seem surprised as Shiro slid out next to him.

 

"You don't need to come," Shiro said as he secured the cloak around at his shoulders and pulled the hood up. It was much simpler than his normal attire, a deep black with a pin of gold, antiqued just enough to no longer catch the light.

 

"I want to stay with you as long as you're here," Lance said as he faced Shiro. He nearly stepped back, remembering how tall his partner was at that moment as he had to look up to see his face. He paused, tipping his head to the side. "Unless you think it will draw attention if I'm with you,"

 

Shiro was already stepping closer and smiling as he leaned down. "I'll leave it up to you."

 

Lance gave a smirk.

 

Shiro chuckled. "I doubted you would let me leave you behind."

 

Lance tipped his head. "Oh, well if you insist."

 

There was amusement but Shiro still gave a huff, "Let's go, if we linger there’s definitely a greater possibility of being found."

 

Lance let his smile linger though as through narrow eyes he looked to Shiro. "It's not all that hard to lose the King's guard,"

 

The look Shiro gave him was scolding enough but Lance could tell there was just a smidgen of doubt.

 

Lance still just smiled.

 

Shiro ended up giving a chuckle as he placed his hands at Lance's hips and pushed him forward down the hall. "Honerva is waiting for us."

 

"I don't remember you caring all that much about being on time before."

 

That seemed to take Shiro back for a moment as he straightened to look at Lance.

 

"Especially when you're the cause," Lance drew out his words.

 

The smile that slithered onto Shiro's face brought a smile Lance’s as well, both knowing it was true.

 

Shiro just flicked his gaze back though, holding up a hand to still Antok behind him. His eyes shifted back to Lance again almost in a sly manner as he spoke. "We'll be alright going alone."

 

Antok dipped his head in a way of reverence Lance hadn’t seen before as he stepped back to the door.

 

Lance gave the guard one last look before he pivoted back and strode with Shiro in the direction of the Palace entrance.

  


* * *

  
  
  


"I've never actually been to the temple, outside of my own coronation." Shiro confessed on his way.

 

Lance wasn't sure what had lightened Shiro’s mood, but it was possibly the most he'd ever seen his Alpha smile and Lance's eyes couldn't stray very far as he smiled in return.

 

"You were chosen on their steps," Lance remarked. "It's beautiful inside, I haven't been for ages."

 

Shiro chuckled, his steps picking up to reach out to Lance.

 

Lance simply danced away from him with a chuckle. "You're not very good at this stealthy thing, Sir Guard," Lance reminded with a wink.

 

Scrunching his nose, Shiro looked around as they strode down the open walkways from the Palace to the great white pillars of the Temple of the Lion Goddess.

 

Lance placed his hands behind his back reverently as he skipped ahead another few steps.

 

"Some young princes like to play games," Shiro purred as he still strode behind, his gait still easy and relaxed though his gaze followed Lance.

 

Lance hummed. "I like nothing of the sort."

 

"Then why do you so often make me chase after you?" Shiro was still smiling, that same uplift of confidence and humor in his voice.

 

Lance cocked his head to the man. "Maybe I'm making you earn my company. "

 

"I seem to recall being chosen for that esteemed position," Shiro commented, as if he was pointing out something to a jury.

 

"Well, that did help your chances," Lance commented offhandedly. He tipped his head to look forward, down the long white-stoned walkway leading up to the Temple.

 

The laugh he received behind him was so genuine, Lance raised a brow.

 

But by the time Lance could shoot a look back, Shiro's composed expression was back into an amused smile.

 

"I take it the Black Lion's recommendation is quite esteemed?' Shiro asked.

 

Lance gave a long shrug. "She is nice, but not quite as nice to talk to as Blue."

 

"I rather enjoy her company!" Shiro commented.

 

"Of course you do, the two of you share the same atmosphere," Lance rolled his eyes. "Those of us on the ground level need to develop skills."

 

"Such as slipping through my fingers," Shiro finished for him.

 

Lance couldn't help as his mouth quirked in a smile. "Not just yours," He tsked.

 

Shiro chuckled again. "And you say you don't like playing games."

 

Lance turned as he walked, looking back at Shiro. "You're so intent on winning," Lance said leisurely. "If you'd stop and enjoy your life once in a while maybe you'd stop playing games as well."

 

The shift of Shiro's eyes was one Lance had rarely seen, true amusement blossoming. "I think I've already won."

 

Lance scoffed. "My hand was practically given to you." He shifted his big blue eyes. "I didn't know you were the participation trophy kind of guy."

 

"I would contend it was my expertise before meeting you," Shiro said with a smile. "As you stated, I still stood on those Temple steps the day your father gave back the Black Bayard."

 

Lance considered. "True enough," He raised a playful hand to his lips to add to the effect. "But I don't see how this refutes my argument of you being a stick in the mud."

 

It was the most genuine laugh he had quite possibly ever heard from his Alpha and Lance perked more than ever at the sound, smiling as he saw Shiro's face and expression alight with the action.

 

"I thought we were speaking of winning games!" Shiro said as his bright grey eyes, for once clear and shining, turned to Lance.

 

Lance countered with a tip of his head. "Why would I speak of winning games when I so dearly dislike them?"

 

Shiro still wore a wide grin. "Than the topic of conversations is of your hand?"

 

"No," Lance said sweeping his hand through the air in a dismissal gesture. "Though true it may have started there, I believe we made a turn to talking of how you derive so little enjoyment out of life, and it disheartens me."

 

"Does it?" Shiro's brow raised. "Is this how I will earn your hand, my dear prince? Through enjoyment?" His face took on a  sort of amused confidence Lance found particularly magnificent. "Because I would point to recent evidence that I can give you that at least."

 

Lance shared Shiro's smirk but still flashed his eyes to the side.

 

They were at the foot of the long gradual steps up to the Temple. Lance skipped up a few steps before pivoting. Standing on the steps, he was just taller than Shiro as he smiled down at him.

 

Shiro simply straightened as he looked to Lance.

 

"Still a stick in the mud," Lance sing-songed.

 

Shiro simply smiled. "I'm still winning though,"

 

Lance rolled his eyes. "You're caught up on that a lot."

 

"Maybe I've lost a lot," Shiro countered. "I could just like winning a bit of it back."

 

Lance tipped his head. "You're puzzling me on purpose, I think."

 

Shiro's mouth lifted into a smile. "I'm taking enjoyment from teasing."

 

Lance wanted so dearly to maintain a straight face but he cracked and looked away as a laugh broke through. "You're awful." He gasped.

 

“Oh, I'm not that bad," Shiro's deep voice accompanied a chuckle.

 

"You twist my words," Lance accused.

 

Shiro slid up first one step closer to Lance, inching his way higher. "I've simply learned to play your game well," Shiro chuckled.

 

Lance frown. "I'm not playing a game."

 

Shiro still just smiled, taking another step up to match Lance on equal footing. "There's always a game. And I enjoy winning."

 

"But you don't find enjoyment playing," Lance pressed his own point again.

 

Shiro took the final step up, and closer to Lance. "Not true," he spoke softer. "It was unexpected, but I do very much enjoy playing with you."

 

Lance couldn't take his eyes away from the great man over him. The dark cloak he wore may have shrouded his face from anyone else but at that moment, Lance could see through the hood into bright shining eyes, eyes set on him.

 

"It was unexpected, wasn't it?" Lance murmured.

 

Shiro smiled. His hand reached up and carefully he brushed his thumb along Lance's cheek. "I'm convinced only a Champion could deserve you."

 

His words, as was happening more often, seemed foreign but Lance still shook his head. "No." He breathed. "That's not all you are."

 

Shiro presented his hands, calloused and simple, and with out a single Altean mark. "My accomplishments are all I have."

 

There was a breath, before Lance focused his gaze on Shiro.

 

"Had," Lance corrected.

 

The smile on Shiro's lips was already lifting before, with his own sly expression, Lance strode past and up the remaining steps to the Temple.

 

"Still a stick in the mud," Lance called back as he cracked into laughter.

 

"You still married me," Shiro touted.

 

As they reached the Temple's great white doors Lance gave a long shrug again. "That is a good point. I did still marry you — despite my hesitance to marry a man that looks like a skunk."

 

Shiro looked over at him, brow raised.

 

For a moment, Lance feared he'd strayed too far but then a smile broke again.

 

Lance considered stilling, letting the comfortable moment still linger with them, but Shiro was drawing the black hood over his head more securely before he stepped forward to the great arching doorways.

  
  


The Acolyte at the foray was taken back as Shiro removed the hood and stood in the dim space. The glowing embers of light gave off a blue tint the colored the room in a mystical manner Lance could only guess was intentional.

 

For once, Lance felt a part of some horridly wonderful secret as he smugly smiled to the young acolyte.

 

"My presence was requested by Honerva." Shiro spoke in a hushed, but strong tone.

 

"Of course," the small acolyte squeaked.

 

Lance tilted his head as he observed the acolyte skitter off. He looked — young. Probably younger than Lance. An apprentice, maybe? Lance knew the Acolytes started quite young.

 

Across the room though, Shiro was walking forward.

 

Wordlessly Lance followed, looking at the smooth walls around him.

 

They ascended the stairs, Shiro walking a few steps ahead as he led the way up.

 

Lance wondered how Shiro knew where he was going, but he didn't ask.

 

At the top of the staircase, two black robed figures strode from the dark halls. They wore masks Lance had never seen on an acolyte before. They stood there without sound.

 

Shiro looked up, giving Lance the chance to catch up. Lance stood very close, looking up at the shadowy figures. He drifted even closer as the black robes started to step forward. One brought out a hand, gesturing towards the hallway as it tipped its head to Shiro.

 

Lance reached out, his hand grabbing at Shiro's sleeve.

 

With care, Shiro turned and glanced up at the second figure. The tall robes rustled as their hands came forward, clasping in front of them.  

 

"No one will hurt you here." Shiro murmured to Lance.

 

Lance could feel the silver accents he'd dressed in dangle as he sharply turned to Shiro.

 

_How do you know?_

 

Shiro cracked a smile, "If they did, they'd have to deal with me."

 

Lance snorted, though he smiled as well. "Your reputation will tarnish over time with that approach, Black Paladin."

 

If they were alone, Lance was certain he'd have earned himself a kiss but instead Shiro gave a chuckle. "I don't mind spending capital on you."

 

If that hadn't already been proven so vividly true, Lance would have giggled but instead he just looked back up to the two shadowy figures still standing at the top of the stairs.

 

"Come on," Shiro murmured as he stepped up the white polished stairs.

 

Wary, and watching the figures carefully, Lance stepped up as well. It didn't matter what the black robes had done for their father, their sudden appearance and now prevalent presence didn't sit well with Lance.

 

"This way, Black Paladin," the one spoke as Shiro reached the top.

 

A few steps back, the other figure turned to Lance. "Your highness." He dipped his head deeply, bowing at the waist to Lance.

 

It always took Lance back just a bit as he watched. The respect felt wrongly placed.

 

"Thank you," Lance found himself murmuring, not sure what else to say.

 

"If you would, " The figure gestured down the opposite hall than Shiro had gone. "There is something we felt you would enjoy seeing."

 

Lance tipped his head, not sure how they knew he would be joining Shiro but he still stepped up onto the landing, and nodded to the robed figure.

 

Without another word, the figure turned, leading Lance down the hall.

  


 

* * *

 

  


The twists and turns of the hall made Lance question their location, feeling as if he was at the center of the temple before he was led to a set of white double doors. They were massive, big enough to let a lion pass through, with ease even. Though as Lance barely brushed his hand over the door they opened, letting in enough space for him to cross in.

 

Tipping his head, Lance noticed it felt familiar in a strange way. Investigating, he stepped forward and through the doors.

 

There was very little sound but as Lance crossed the threshold and was a step away, the doors sprung back closed.

 

Lance looked back, realizing he was now alone in the room.

 

His body still half turned, Lance took his time as he looked around the room. It was vast. though the room was circular in nature. There was an enclave of sorts taking up most of the room, raised with lingering steps leading up to it. Directly before it's entrance was a raised cylinder platform only a small single step leading up to it. The only light in the room came from overhead where a column of sunlight directly shone down over the small platform.

 

The door Lance had entered in, he observed, was also only one of five. and in a direct line down from both the massive enclave and raised platform was what had to be the main doors to the room. They were twice the size of the doors Lance had come through, towering over head to nearly the cathedral high ceiling.

 

The room's architecture arched over head in beautiful carved, clean lines out of white near blueish stone. The only warm colors of the room being the direct sunlight from above.

 

With carful steps, Lance ventured forward. his eyes squinted in the stark column of light casting the rest of the room in stark shadows.

 

As he stepped into the light at the foot of the platform, he realized there was a pair of railings on either side with deep blue swirling crystals lit and sparkling from the tops of which.

 

Narrowing his eyes he stepped up first on the step, and then up onto the platform. Now bathed in the light, Lance noticed — he didn't feel any warmth from it. Instead a cool feeling rushed through his veins. Lance frowned. His heat hadn't worn off yet it seemed. Without Shiro around he must already feel the loss.

 

Lance stepped into the middle of the platform, his hands reaching out hesitantly towards the two crystals at either side of him —

 

He gasped suddenly as deep within the crystal seemed — to light up.

 

"This temple wasn't built until quite recently."

 

Lance jerked, pivoting around and dropping his hands. The weird blueish light was gone when he glanced back, making Lance question if it was ever there to begin with.

 

From the shadows, a dark robed figure moved out. Tall, but with slender shoulders.

 

Lance squinted in the light before he realized. "Honerva."

 

An articulate, long hand reached up to pull back the woman's hood as she smiled at Lance. Her dark skin was more of a burnt umber than the coppery tone of Lance's, but it matched well with her golden cat-like gaze.

 

"Your highness," Honerva took another <i>deep</i> bow before looking back at Lance.

 

"I thought you were meeting with Shiro."

 

Honerva smiled. "I wanted to talk to you as well, when I heard he brought you."

 

Lance gave an uneasy nod. "Right." his hands dropped down to his sides.

 

"Do you know the history of this temple, your highness?"

 

Swallowing down his hesitance at the prospect of such a boring subject, Lance tried to pull on a smile. "I don't, I'm afraid."

 

Honerva looked around. "It was built just after you were born, to house the great lions of Voltron."

 

Puzzled, Lance tipped his head. "But the lions are kept in the hangars of the Palace."

 

There was a knowing smile on Honerva's face. "That was not always their place."

 

"Why were they moved?" Lance inquired.

 

"The lions weren't always as they are now." Honerva explained, a small lift in her voice.

 

Lance shook his head. "They've always served Altea through their Paladins," on that fact, Lance was well informed.

 

"It is indeed so," Honerva took another step forward. "Though it is not Altea they serve," she gestured around. "It is in service of the goddess, and her people."

 

It drew Lances attention to the floor. Carved into the floor were five lines all leading from a pentagon surrounding the platform before the lines shot out to each respective door.

 

"The lions have a very long history," Honerva said carefully. "For thousands of years, they were not used as they are now, they were not at the whims of a dynasty."

 

Lance scrunched his nose. "What?" He said almost under his breath.

 

Honerva looked around at the doors. "The lions were housed here, because they stood dormant in halls much like these." She held her hand out to the great enclave, its purpose much clearer now. "Every generation a Paladin for each lion was still chosen. Though they would only ever awake in times of great need, as divine intervention from the Goddess herself."

 

"I've never heard of this." Lance shook his head. "What changed?"

 

There was a breath, a moment where Honerva's serene look faltered before she gestured to the very platform where Lance stood.

 

Lance looked down as well.

 

"There was a way to wake them up that was found. A way so that they wouldn't simply prowl back onto their pedestals and go back to sleep, watching like great stone sentries but nothing more."

 

Honerve looked to the floor, her slender hand gesturing to one of the carved pentagons in the floor. "When you were but a child the Bayards were forged in this room. Tools to make the lions at a Paladin’s beck and call."

 

Lance gazed at the carvings before looking to Honerva again.

 

"By my father?" He inquired. This was — it was all new information to Lance. He'd — for some reason Lance had never doubted the Lions ever-present existence as a constant.

 

Honerva stilled though, her hands clasping before her as she looked out over the room for a moment longer, she looked to Lance then, her eyes suddenly much more — full, her brow kneaded just a bit.

 

"Yes. It was your father."

 

Lance stayed still where he was. His life felt like an overwhelming constant of new information pouring over him at all times and this — this one would take some time to full process.

 

"Were you there?" Suddenly the thought occurred to Lance.

 

Honerva looked up at Lance, her golden eyes slender as she perceived him before she gave a curt nod. “Yes, your highness, I was indeed present for the forging of the Bayards."

 

There was something in her manner that was uncomfortable, her lips held tight and her expression so tightly reined in  it was nearly blank.

 

"How were they forged?" Lance asked. He finally lingered closer, stepping down from the platform to speak to Honerva on the same level.

 

Honerva looked for a moment as if she would not answer but then she raised her gaze to Lance. "The lions aren't the only divine intervention on Altea." She narrowed her eyes. "The Goddess blessed a blood line of individuals. They are connected to the lions."

 

Lance stayed quiet. The Royal Bloodlines. That's why there was never a Royal family with out at least one Paladin member, or their abundant markings scattered across their skin. They were touched by the Goddess herself.

 

There was still one piece still missing. "What has kept them awake all this time then?"

 

If everything she said was true, that would mean there had nearly been two generations of Paladins with the forged Bayards.

 

"They were given a life force," Honerva carefully chose her words this time. "Where they were simply tools before, they were given the means though sacrifice to attain their own semblance of consciousness and to take on the form you are familiar with now."

 

That made Lance's mind reel. He'd spent nights in Blues cockpit getting to know her. She had a personality, a being all her own. It was distressful to think it wasn't always that way.

 

From the edge of the room, Lance caught another tall black-robed figure. They were silent as they seem to pop out of nowhere. Seeing Lance's attention grabbed away, Honerva looks back over her shoulder as well.

 

She turns back to Lance to give another low bow. "Your highness," She said.

 

Lance nodded at her.

 

Lifting from the bow, she left Lance with another smile before going to the figure, the two leaving the room together.

 

His interest peaked this time, Lance looked to the raised platform again.

 

She had said the bayards were forged in that very room.

 

With a ginger step, Lance was back up on the platform. He hesitated but held his hands out over the crystals again, looking up at the great enclave before him. It was massive, vaulting up clear to the ceiling. The arching doorway in it was big enough to let through one of the lions easily. Though Lance had a suspicion it was meant for a very specific lion.

 

Behind Lance, there was a soft shuddering, just enough to alert him and he looked over his shoulder.

 

The main entrance to the room, massive double doors parted, letting through a sliver of light in the blue cast room. Lance smiled when the silhouette coming through was familiar.

 

"Hullo," Lance said with a smile.

 

Shiro stopped as the doors, just like with Lance, of their own accord closed behind him. The subtle shift of his eyes up from Lance’s feet to his golden lighted hair was flattering enough for Lance to smile even wider.

 

"Hello, lovely," Shiro greeted.

 

Lance gave a giggle, and faced back forward. "I like that pet name. That's a keeper."

 

Shiro gave his own chuckle. "Have I given you ones you don't enjoy?"

 

Seeming to ponder, Lance still held his hands out over the crystals. "You know — not really."

 

The second time Shiro chucked he was much closer, standing just below Lance at the rim of the platform. "I'll be sure to keep trying them out then."

 

Lance gave a smile. "I'd like that."

 

Shiro drifted closer, for once shorter than Lanca as he brushed a hand gently at Lance's side. "You really do look — ethereal in this light. It's absolutely beautiful."

 

With the flattering words back, Lance couldn't help the blush. "Good lighting is always a must."

 

Shiro didn't answer as he looked over Lance again. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you." His gaze drifted for a moment around the room.

 

The sudden softening of every muscle though Lance had him nearly swooning over Shiro as both his hands went to Shiro's face, at the level of his chest and he leaned into kiss very softly at Shiro’s lips.

 

"You are the bravest man I think I've ever met," Lance murmured to him. "If anyone can keep me from it all I'm sure it's you." He said as he smiled.

 

Shiro gave him a smile in return. "It's a promise than." He raised his brow. "Stay with me forever, keep letting me see you bathed in sunlight, and I will keep you safe."

 

It felt horribly cheesy but Lance couldn't help loving it. He made a motion like he was considering before he nodded. "That sounds like a good deal to me."

 

At some point, Lance had stepped closer to Shiro and Lance felt as both of Shiro's hands slid down his sides, carefully mapping the shape of him as he also moved his hands slow to rest at his hips. Lance nearly closed his eyes. It felt so dearly wonderful.

 

Shiro shifted his gaze down to the crystals at Lance's finger tips. "What's this?"

 

"I want to try something." Lance said softly. He held a finger up to his mouth to Shiro indicating he wasn't quite sure if he should be doing what he was doing or not. He pulled away to stand back in the middle of the platform. "It'll take just a moment."

 

Shiro's nod was a clear indication he didn't mind waiting, so Lance extended his hands back out to over over the crystals. His interest had been peaked after all. He just had to know.

 

Shiro shifted a bit more behind him, looking at least mildly interested as Lance carefully lowered his hands. As the pads of his fingers alighted down on the crystals they lit up that same bright blue again, responding.

 

As Lance pressed more of his fingers down suddenly the rim of the platform lit up, alighting Lance in a ring of blue.

 

Marveling around him, Lance looked back to the crystals to firmly press his palms down on it this time.

 

Every etching in the room lit up, like soaring lightening through the room all five doors were suddenly lit and before him the symbols over the great enclave shone with such brilliance Lance was convinced it may nearly as bright as a full moon.

 

Lance smiled as he looked around. It was amazingly magical to see the dark towering room suddenly lit up.

 

At his waist then, Lance felt a s Shiro's hands came up. His expression was unreadable but Lance guessed Shiro was worried all the commotion would get them found.

 

He carefully took his hands away and the room was plunged immediately into darkness, the blue light all sucked back to the alter. He wondered about the ritual that forged the bayards, if he was but a child he wouldn't remember it even if he had attended, but Lance wondered at the spectacle of it. If just touching the crystals did this, what would that look like?

 

"Did you know that would happen?" Shiro asked from behind him. His hands were still warmly framing Lance’s waist.

 

Lance shook his head. "No." He answered as he peered back over his shoulder. "But I had wondered." He giggled. "Honerva gave me a run down on how the bayards were formed. I had wondered if my father could do it, you would think I could too, right?" He turned though, wiggling around to face Shiro, even letting his arms rest at his shoulders, melting in their bony way down his back.

 

Shiro didn't seem so pleased, looking around the room. "This room feels eerie."

 

Lance looked around as well. "I guess." The wonderment from just moments ago had yet to subside but Lance could see from Shiro's perspective how the dark room could feel otherworldly.

 

"Come on," Shiro beckoned, slipping from Lance’s hold to turn.

 

As they left the room, the great doors opened for them again without prompting Lance looked back at the platform one more time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lance had sincerely thought they were going to leave, but the moment Shiro was certain they were secluded, Lance was backed into a carved out enclave, decoratively designated for a small side table and a vase. Shiro knocked the vase from its spot without a care and had Lance lifted up on to the table.

 

Shiro's mouth hotly attached to Lance's neck, melding up and over the mark fiercely as Lance gasped and his back arched. He was still absurdly sensitive and his glands still swollen. But as always, Shiro’s touch over the mark had him panting and clamoring for a better hold on his mate.

 

“I'm always gonna keep you safe." The growled statement was gasped into Lance's skin.

 

Legs coming up to grip at Shiro's waist, Lance cracked his eyes open to look at Shiro. Shiro earnestly pushed Lance back so he was pinned against the wall as he fumbled between them with their clothing.

 

"We shouldn't," Lance gasped. But he was already half smiling as Shiro finally looked up at him.

 

With just the faintest of nods from Lance, Shiro was crashing mouths together in a consuming kiss. Lance gave a small squeak, but his hand lifted to Shiro’s face, cupping as white hair tickled over his nose. He always felt so impossibly ravished with Shiro kissing him — and Lance couldn’t get enough of it.

 

Shiro was shaking his head as he broke the kiss and for a moment Lance thought that they might stop.

 

At least until Shiro's eyes flicked up to meet Lance's, the intensity of his gaze nearly burning Lance to ash before he spoke. ‘“I'll never give you away. I’ll never treat you like a trophy like that.”

 

Lance nodded. "I know."

 

This time more concerned, he raised both his hands to Shiro's face. Somewhere along the way, his carefree and even flirty Paladin had been replaced with a much more somber and earnest one. Nearly frantic as he held onto Lance, Like he was so fiercely trying to keep Lance away from something, keep him close.

 

"I won't use you." Another promise bled out from Shiro.

 

Lance shook his head. "My — Shiro." He landed on. "You're the one person here that — seems to sincerely want that."

 

The truth of it shot through Lance, making his throat constrict at that moment and a wince go through him.

 

"I've never thought —“ Lance gulped down air. "This bond was never gonna work out, I thought. But now — please don't promise me something you don't mean."

 

Shiro seemed to look down over Lance, considering his words more carefully this time. "You're always going to be safe with me." He repeated.

 

Lance nodded. "I can accept that one."

 

"No." Shiro shook his head. "You don't understand." He looked—

 

Lance blinked several times at his Paladin. He looked so impossibly weak at that moment.

 

"I'll never —“ He cleared his throat, seeming to have trouble forming the words. "I can't tell you — but you're just so — I'll never hurt you." His eyes were glazing over fast Lance realized as he watched his paladin.

 

"Shiro," Lance nearly felt as he started to tremble.

 

What did that mean? Lance wanted to ask so fiercely but at that moment he knew he couldn’t. He knew he just — there was no way for him to form the words.

 

Brushing his thumbs over Shiro's cheek, he still looked so desperately at Lance, like Lance maybe had an answer for him.

 

Lance just shook his head, leaning forward to connect their foreheads. "I promise I won't leave you, I just promised you."

 

Shiro opened his mouth just as if he might say something — might slip up just once and let Lance in to what ever barrier he always refused to talk around —

 

The siren was low in starting pitch before escalating to a nigh shrill. Lance knew that sound. It as an alert. It was an alert designed to assemble military forces and tell civilians to get to safety.

 

They were about to be under attack.

 

Both Lance's and Shiro's heads jerked up at the sound of it.

 

"Shiro," Lance turned his eyes to his mate.

 

Shiro looked back with a careful gaze.

 

"We have to get you back to space." Lance said as what might happen slowly sank into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to check out more Two Shadows Went or any of my other Writing feel free to [Look Over Here](http://pitchgold.tumblr.com/tagged/writing)
> 
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